Strange Hospitality

It's blueberry season in Indiana. My favorite time. Not any blueberry farm, but the Alpine Blueberry Farm in Batesville, Indiana. The berries are wonderful, the setting is perfect and the owners, well -- they are the definition of Hoosier or any kind of hospitality. Of course, I am bias because the farmers are family.

Year's ago, my dietitian-blueberry farming sister gave me a cook book called something like "Around the Table" -- there were recipes from around the globe, but it was more about how people should be celebrated when they come to your home. I was young, but it resonated and if my door was open before, it was wide open after I read the book. I never prepared a single recipe from the book, but I tried to practice its premise: The door should always be open, new faces and old faces always welcome.

Recently, I discovered a few boys were road tripping from Arizona to Ohio. I said "you must stop at the blueberry farm .... Ask for my sister or her husband. They will take care of you for a while." So, I gave my sister a heads up, gave the boys her number and let fate play its hand. I haven't heard all the stories, but the boys did show up and now Charlie and my nephew Teddy are friends on Facebook. Connections, right?

My sister would say that is what the blueberry farm is all about (well, it's also about the healthiest most yummy fruit in the world) but more importantly -- it's about connecting with people year after year, some new faces, some recognized faces... But all there to walk about the fields, pick buckets of berries, chat with Ted, hopefully chase a few birds away. And, if you are lucky, you get to try a few goodies out of the private garden. Have you ever tried freshly picked romaine lettuce lightly grilled, with a touch of dressing and a little sprinkle of cheese? Nothing is better. And I want to go there now.

My sister reported that when the road weary boys arrived she asked what their main stops had been along the way. One of the boys said something like the Hot Springs and the Blueberry Farm. Good choice! Hoosier hospitality is one thing, but strange hospitality takes it to a whole different level.

Now: Full disclaimer so I do not get in trouble. All my sisters and my brothers practice some form of Strange Hospitality. And, ask my husband, if you visit, it never stops. It's a swirl of kindness and activity the likes top few will ever know.