I grew up in Wyandanch on Long Island, N.Y. in the 1940s- In the summer in the early evening my brother and my parents and I would get all the kitchen pots in the car and drive to the woods near the lake and pick the wild blueberries. We filled the big pots and then the medium and small pots, etc. and we never complained! Then we went home and Mom would spend the next day canning all the blueberries we didn't eat! and we went back and did it over and over again! We had blueberries all winter!! Mom worked as a cook for other people when she came to this country. We were the only kids that ate Crepe Suzettes rolled up with blueberries. Those were "The Good Old Days!"

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