“Blueberry Scones,” by Spencer Lutsky, 14, of WaitsfieldYoung Writers Project is a creative, online community of teen writers and visual artists that started in Burlington in 2006. Each week, VTDigger publishes the writing and art of young Vermonters who post their work on youngwritersproject.org, a free, interactive website for youth, ages 13-19. To find out more, please go to youngwritersproject.org or contact Executive Director Susan Reid at [email protected]; (802) 324-9538. In the depths of our inevitable winter doldrums (those moments we’re not whizzing down Vermont’s picturesque slopes or sipping hot chocolate by the fire, that is), it’s easy to let ourselves daydream about a far-off New England summer, filled with wildflowers and warm breezes…  and juicy berries plucked straight from the bush. This week’s featured writer, Laura Bennett of Chester, recalls with mounting anticipation the annual family tradition of a visit to the local blueberry farm and the scratch-made bars that follow.Blueberry barsLaura Bennett, 14, ChesterIt’s late August, and Mom packs us all up in the minivan and we set off for the beautiful, scenic drive to Alexander’s Wild Blueberry Farm. For me, this is one of my favorite days of summer. The sweaty, sticky weather doesn’t bother me now — all I can think about is what our blueberry pickup means: a freezer full of tiny, sweet berries ready to be baked into many delicious bars.The second we get home, my siblings and I dart to the trunk, eager to help my mom unload the bags of fresh berries. To us, the quicker we bring the berries in the house, the quicker we can grab handfuls of the blueberries and shove them into our mouths, covering our tiny lips and fingertips in purple stains. The first step in the long-awaited baking process is gathering all our ingredients. We run from cabinet to cabinet spreading the ingredients across the freshly cleared counter: flour, rolled oats, brown sugar, baking soda, butter and most importantly, the blueberries. After making sure we have all the ingredients, we start measuring: one cup of flour, one cup of oats, a two-thirds cup of brown sugar, aquarter teaspoon of baking soda, one stick of butter,and one-and-a-half cups of blueberries. Then it’s time for the real baking to begin. We dump everything but the butter and berries into a medium-sized bowl, mixing it all together. Next, we add the butter to the bowl, taking turns mashing the whole mixture with a pastry blender until it resembles coarse crumbs. Once we finish our crumble, it’s time to put it in the pan. We measure out a half-cup of the crumble and set it aside. We press the rest of the mixture into the bottom of a nine-by-nine glass pan. After the crumble bottom is nice and packed down, we add in our blueberries, covering the pan with an ocean of teeny, tiny pockets of sweetness. Mom pours the rest of the crumble on top of the berries, evening it out, before popping the bars into a 350-degree oven and starting the 30-minute timer for the bars.The 30-or-so minutes when the bars are in the oven are my favorite because it means reading the Robert McCloskey classic “Blueberries for Sal.” We flip through the pretty, paper pages covered in beautiful drawings, saying, “Mom, read it again, again!” And as soon as we hear the oven timer go off, we jump up and run through the door to the kitchen. The room is filled with the aroma of toasted oats and sizzling berries, making us all eager to devour the bars. Mom walks to the oven, turning off the repeatedly beeping timer before proceeding to open the glass oven door and pulling out the toasty bars.“Can we eat them?” we beg Mom.“Not yet,” she replies, placing the pan on the stovetop. When the bars have cooled, we each grab a small blue-and-white Corelle plate, waiting for Mom to cut up the bars. Slicing them into perfect squares, she hands one to each of us before placing one on a plate for herself. We head outside to a plaid picnic blanket to eat our delicious bars under the August sun.Read the story on VTDigger here: Young Writers Project: ‘Blueberry bars’.