Berries

Today I went blueberry picking in the woods close to where we live. In Sweden picking mushrooms is a national hobby, but my friends from Belgium were laughing their asses off when they found the first chapter in their Introduction to Swedish text book was about teenagers picking muschroom. "Really?" they said. "Seriously!?! who picks mushroom except old aunts?" Studying in Sweden a semester actually had me invited to a few mushroom picking activities.
The berries in Norway are tarter, my American husband says. He is from a state where they farm big juicy blueberries, and they sell them frozen in huge gallon boxes. Last weekend my mom was a champ and picked 2 liters of blueberries for me. I have them frozen in little containers and plan to use them in smoothies and pancakes. She also brought me 12 baskets of small strawberries, so this winter's strawberry daiquirys are under control.

According to the weather forecast today should have been sunny all day. I didn't see anything but clouds. Bending over in the wood with a blueberry rake, I was happy there were no sunshine. True that we don't have horse flies, nor noseems in Norway. But some little bugs were still landing on my face and chest, leaving red little hickey spots on my skin. The blueberries are still in my backpack. I think I'll put them in the fridge and seperate the berries and the leaves tomorrow.

My husband's is watching a tv show,hidden behind his humongous computer screen, and our Swedish friend is already in bed. I'm slightly buzzed from elderberry (sambucus) and vodka. Berries and alcohol go really well together.