Blueberries, anyone?

My mother, daughter, friend Cyndi and I just returned from picking blueberries. We brought home roughly thirty pounds, and my friend picked about eleven pounds. It's the first time I've ever gone blueberry picking and it was a lot of fun. When we got there, though, they directed us to a certain area where the bushes weren't too spectacular. The berries all looked pretty small, but we passed several bushes where the berries were pretty large, so my mom asked if we could do those and the girl was trying to tell us how they were really open yet, but my mom pointed out other people were picking the berries from that area and, finally, the girl had no choice but to relent and let my mom have access to the other bushes. We stayed in the original area, but then my daughter went to pick with my mother and came back with the mother lode of berries, so we moseyed on over the good plants. When we got there, there was some guy there rapidly picking only the large berries and then moving on to the next plant. You're supposed to pick a bush as clean as you can before you move on to the next one, so this guy was pretty much breaking the law. Well, don't ever think you can get between my mother and good anything, so she would move to the bush in front of him to strike before he could get to it. My friend Cyndi, who goes to this berry farm pretty often, told us there was a woman who works at the farm who she calls the Blueberry Nazi because this woman yells at people if they don't pick a bush clean before moving on. I saw the lady before we left. She does look like a Blueberry Nazi. Anyway, it was a good time and I recommend it highly if you ever get the chance.