Yesterday we went up the moors to pick that sweetest of local fruits, the blueberry.  As John points out, our local blueberries are a variety called whortleberries (pronounced ‘urtz) which are tiny but very delicious.  We went as a group: four adults, one child, two dogs, one of whom didn’t want to let me get on with picking anything.

We got a reasonable quantity of the precious berries.  In fact, a reasonable quantity each, which is just as well given that we aren’t combining them in a communal kitchen.  But I found it unexpectedly hard: it only took about a minute of picking before my elbow started giving trouble, so I had to pick left-handed.  The right arm seemed OK carrying the container I was filling, but today it hurts 😦  I shall just have to hope to be better in time for the blackberry season.

Just eaten the first of mine, as a spot of dessert after lunch.  Yum!