If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Oregon is known for its blueberries, in the same way that California is known for our oranges. There are U-pick farms, so we chose one, took 6 buckets to fill, loaded up my grandniece and nephews, and headed out of the city.

Blueberry farmers plant grass between the rows, blueberries have no thorns, and it (usually) isn’t hot in Oregon, at least not hot in the way I am accustomed to.

In the afternoon, I went to another blueberry farm with my brother-in-law, this time just to glean. There I learned that it is normal to plant grass in the rows to hold down dust and allow for driving between rows during muddy times. I also learned that piling sawdust around the base of the plant is normal. Finally, I learned that they harvest the berries by a very specifically designed machine. I didn’t learn if you call the place a field, a grove, an orchard, or something else.

This is part of the haul. I filled many gallon ziplock bags and 4 salvaged berry boxes, ultimately filling up 2 ice chests.

Obviously, I had to leave the next day, because one cannot expect 2 ice chests of blueberries to just be fine indefinitely.