A few years ago I got to take a lovely trip to Maine. I had blueberries with every meal, except one, and that meal was sad indeed. On the last night of the trip I ordered blueberry pie with my meal, like I had at every other meal during the trip. Shortly after ordering our waitress came back and told me that they had run out of pie. I almost started crying. Seriously. I love blueberries that much.
Now I admit, a Maine blueberry and a Southern blueberry are two different things. But each is wonderful in its own way. If you've never been blueberry picking before you really have to do it at least once. Though I promise you'll be hooked once you've gone. There is nothing quite like eating a blueberry picked right from the bush. Hot from the summer sun, it's a burst of sweet juice in your mouth. Absolutely delicious.
Even with the children eating their weight in blueberries, we managed to come home with three gallons of fruit. It helped that my mom and grandma were helping us pick. One adult per child made the chances of getting home with a decent amount of berries a little greater. All in all it was a wonderful day with very delicious rewards.