I’m sure Mama blogs across the net have entries concerning a trip to the strawberry farm. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who immediately thinks of that really not so great (gasp! I said it!) Beatles tune. So whatever, here’s my contribution.
Fact: Miss A hates strawberries.
Fact: It was over 90 degrees before 9 am and the air was so heavy it (insert metaphor I just can’t seem to come up with).
So add fact 1 to fact 2 and you figure it was a pretty miserable day, huh? Actually, no. We got up to the farm by 9:30am (I was hoping for an hour earlier but Lil G felt like sleeping in). So while yes, it was hot-tah, it wasn’t totally unbearable. And while Miss A doesn’t like to eat strawberries (except for a few months when she was 2) she does seem to really enjoy picking them.
Yes, I bathed all us fair skinned red heads in plenty-o-sunscreen.
It doesn’t stop the freckles though…or the heat-flushed cheeks.
Miss A took her job quite seriously, and filled that basket with very little help from me.
Of course, she insisted the very best berries would be the farthest in the field. (I really love this picture, btw. Something about it just makes me happy).
My strawberry blonde girl was proud of herself…
…but it didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off.
So together we finished filling the basket so she could get home and eat ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.
I now have 2 giant baskets of strawberries in the fridge. Some of my friends make jam…but I dunno…maybe a tart or two, some strawberry sauce, and a few other desserts I can come up with…got any ideas?
Melonie Johnson 