A few weeks ago Andy and I bought a small blueberry bush for our backyard. I didn’t really think we’d ever get any fruit from it, what with the cardinals that nest in the azalea bushes and the fat little squirrel that likes to steal my bulbs. Little furry bastard runs half way up the tree and then sits there eating whatever it is that he’s just stolen and smirking at me. Oh yes, squirrels can smirk. I’d do something about it, if he wasn’t so damn cute. Besides, it gives my neighbors something to gossip about when I stand under the tree and tell him that i’m going to let my orange cat play tag with him if he doesn’t stop eating my plants. But back to the blueberries.
I’ve been keeping the bush watered and I noticed some almost ripe berries a few days ago. Today I picked the single gloriously blue berry and proudly presented it to my husband when he came home. I totally have dibs on berry number two though.
*Clarification, some of you were curious, but the purple flowers you see at the edges of photos are not from the blueberry plant. They are from the purple verbena that Andy got me for my birthday.