Entry No. 10: The Sweetest Shade of Blue
Hello, Darling,
Yesterday, my family and I went blueberry picking for the very first time. We ventured out to Rose’s Berry Farm in Glastonbury, and it turned into the loveliest impromptu outing.
My mother and father-in-law had mentioned wanting to do something on Friday, though we hadn’t settled on what. Then, my husband suggested blueberry picking—something he used to do when his parents would visit from Palm Beach, Florida.
At first, I was a little nervous. We usually go apple picking in the fall at a private estate in Glastonbury—a friend of my mother-in-law’s, who splits her time between Connecticut and New York. That estate is stunning, with over 200 apple trees. They often host school tours and generously donate to FoodShare, but it’s still far too many apples for one group to pick! We’ve loved that tradition for the past few years.
But berry picking? I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I also didn’t know how to dress for it. Every time I’ve seen berry picking on the Hallmark Channel, it’s in these commercial-type patches with games and hayrides.
So I wore a blue-and-white dress with a cutout back, a soft light-blue cardigan, my vintage-inspired white sunglasses, gold sandals, and a raffia purse with a little bow. I’m describing it in detail since you’ll see it in the photos.
I didn’t think I’d be the one picking at first—my five-year-old was so excited, and I imagined just helping him fill his basket. But once I stepped into the patch, I found it all incredibly calming. The breeze, the birdsong, the focus on quietly finding berries—it felt like such a simple, peaceful joy.
We’d come near the end of the season, and one of the owners let us know that many of the berries were already picked. He kindly offered us special pricing if we found anything, the rate typically reserved for those picking more than two pounds. It was such a thoughtful gesture.
To our surprise, we found plenty of berries still ripe and ready to be picked—and many that were still purple and not quite there yet. My son grinned and said my dress matched the berries, since blue is my favorite color. (Of course, blueberries are more of a deep indigo-purple, but I love that he notices the little things. All of my children do.)
My oldest daughter, who lives in England, recently sent me a photo of a light blue Mini Cooper she spotted where she is. And while shopping in Cape Cod, it was my 11-year-old who discovered the perfect pale blue leather gloves for me in a vintage shop. Even my mother-in-law said, “Well, you win best dressed at the blueberry patch today!” I just had to be extra careful not to get juice on my dress.
Believe it or not, I’d never tasted a fresh blueberry straight from the bush before. But we were encouraged to sample a few—this farm doesn’t use pesticides, which I really appreciated.
In case you didn’t know, blueberries are packed with goodness: antioxidants, antiviral properties, vitamins, minerals… and they’re amazing for anti-aging (for those who care—wink, wink).
And these? These were the best I’d ever had. The smaller ones were bursting with flavor—like nature’s candy. I always find the oversized, GMO-farmed berries don’t taste as sweet. But these tiny treasures? They were absolute heaven.
Even though I got a late start, I ended up with a sizable bag of my own. And my in-laws graciously let us keep all the berries we picked.
Afterward, we stopped at a nearby park where my son could run and play. My mother-in-law and I sat and talked—about life, parenting, and the experience of being raised by Southern mothers. It was such a warm and simple close to the week.
Enjoy the photos I managed to snap. I didn’t take many—I was too busy chatting, keeping up with my son, and soaking in the joy of the day.
With Love,
Dani
