Not Your Average Blueberry Picker

I've had all sorts of odd little jobs it seems.  But I want to tell you about one today.  I have no idea what made me think about it, but every time I do it makes me laugh.  You see, I was newly married, newly moved to the state of Michigan, and bored out of my mind while my hubby was at work all day.  So I had heard that Sodts Berry Farm paid people to pick berries for them. I had been there strawberry picking before with my mother in law.  I will never forget when I parked my car and climbed out to meet her there.  The woman in the little booth yelled out "Are you old enough to drive?!" Followed by quite the exclamations of how I couldn't possibly be old enough to be married, let alone have a driver's license.  So anyways, I called them up, and they told me where to grab a bucket and start.  Hey, I love being outside. I'll do this for money!  I had never picked a blueberry in my life (I was fresh from Iowa you know, where the focus is corn and beans, and no not potatoes either, that is I-D-A-H-O.  You wouldn't believe the amount of people out there that don't know the difference between Iowa and Idaho!), but figured it couldn't be too hard.  Why not?  I was the only person out there, humming away to some tune stuck in my head.  Wow, it takes a LOT of blueberries to fill up a bucket.  Not long after, a van drove up and a group of Mexicans poured out.  No longer was I listening to the sound of birds, but the excited chitter-chatter of Espanol.  I have nothing against Mexicans (just better have your paperwork, darn it.) and was perfectly comfortable being in my own little english gringo world, picking away and enjoying God's creation.   After two hours, it didn't look like I had many berries.  I swear I hardly ate a handful.  I sheepishly brought my bucket up to the owner who looked as though he was trying to stifle a laugh, and handed me $3.75.  Wow. I think when I was 8 years old, that would have made me pretty joyous. But, as my mom would says, "Better than a stick in the eye....."  Less than $2 an hour?  I have to be faster.  I will come back tomorrow and focus on speed!  I never did have the best fine motor skills.  My hubby's fingers are three times the size of mine, yet he's the one who has to get little knots out, fix a tiny broken chain on a necklace, etc.  Maybe this lack of fine motor skills has something to do with my inability to speed pick.  I think I made about 25 cents more on day two.  When the dude with the crazy curly hair paid me, he looked at me for a while and finally asked "what does your husband do?"  To which I sort of embarrassingly replied "he's an electrical engineer and such and such a company....) The man slapped his leg and hollered out something to the effect of "THEN WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?!!!!!  Go home!!!"  I didn't go back.  But my mother-in-law has brought me many a delicious container of berries since then, as she still loves to pick.  Mmmmmm.