I resigned myself to not picking strawberries this year. I wanted to, I planned to, I scouted out new farms near and far. But, too much happened in the last few weeks – travel, recital, work, grading, exciting and life-changing news that sent us reeling – and getting us all in the car and into the field seemed daunting. Nevermind what to do with all those berries! No time for jamming, my inner monologue chanted, no time, no time.
Then, my sister posted pictures of her kids picking strawberries and that was it – the excuses seemed so trivial and all that mattered was getting my hands on some ripe, warm berries. Off I drove with my oldest girl, leaving the baby with my husband, to a farm not too far away. We picked two gallons in the peace of each other’s company, processed them to the sound of Doo-Wop music, and by bedtime the lovely little darlings went from sun-warmed to chilling in the freezer, dreaming of smoothies.
Next week, my girl’s school holds its annual Strawberry Festival – I think grabbing some flats for a good cause and remembering that there is always time for jam is in order.
Playing along in spirit with Heather’s “This Week In My Kitchen :: Blog Hop”