When we do something that's fun, we tend to do it again. If it's something seasonal, then before long it becomes another of our "traditions". One such fun tradition is to go out and pick strawberries in late April. Last Wednesday, Jerry picked up the grand kids when Jodi came into town for her bible study. While she fed her soul with the word of God, we picked berries. But it did my soul so much good to be out in the sunshine on a beautiful spring morning with my husband and grand kids. I had someone very capable staying with mom and it was so refreshing to my spirit to be able to inhale, deeply, the fresh morning air and feel the warm sun on my face. And the berries....those wonderful, fresh berries...there is just no way to describe them.
When the little ones come over with their buckets and their enthusiasm, you can tell mom has been talking to them. This year it was Emery's turn to be very intense when he told me, "Just pick the red, shiny ones. Don't pick the yellow ones. Don't pick the green ones." I asked him about picking any blue ones and he said they would make you sick.
So Emery was sure to pick the red, shiny ones (for the most part) and each time he picked one he would say, "What about this one, Nanny?" and I'd tell him that was the best one yet. Then he'd take it to Jerry and say, "What about this one, Grandpa?" After getting another approval, he would put it in the bucket...wherever he had left the bucket. Savannah, with her years of berry picking experience, just picked berries. Once in a while she would show us a particularly large or perfectly shaped one. And, of course, we nibbled.
They are so good and I wish they would stay fresh longer, but we usually end up freezing most of them that same day. But the ones we did eat fresh, with juices dripping down our chins and onto our white shirts, were berry, berry good!