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Blueberries, Memories, and the Honor of Work
I put blueberries on my bowl of steel cut oatmeal this morning and it led me down memory lane to you and one of our Camden, New Jersey summer visits. I hardly remember how old I was, maybe around 7, probably younger. You took on summer work at a blueberry farm. You would leave very early in the morning, well before I was up. The truck would drop you off in the afternoon and you’d come home tired, dirty, and with your day’s pay. I waited on the front porch for you in the afte
