Berry Nice

They're happening! The first strawberries of the season from our tiny strawberry patch. I love fresh berries. Growing up on a farm in Oregon, I had some of the best berries in the world (no bias here, eh?). There are few things that taste better than a warm-from-the-sun, fresh picked strawberry. I remember picking strawberries as a summer job when I was a kid. I pretty much hated it. The berry plants were wet early in the morning. The ground was hard. I scooted along between the rows, trying to pick them without getting too many stems. The row boss would come behind where I'd picked to check my row and I would cringe with embarrassment if she found too many I'd missed. However, there were always cute crate boys to flirt with who would sometimes come along a help me pick for a bit. But the best part was being able to eat a strawberry whenever I wanted. Of course, if I ate too many, my crate wouldn't fill up too fast and I wouldn't make much money. Seems like I never made much money, anyway. Too much flirting maybe, or the fact that I just couldn't resist those warm, luscious strawberries. I still can't!