Sam and I had a quick lunch at the Presbyterian men's burger stand yesterday. We are shingling the church so it was definitely a working lunch.
And the beginning of an obsessive desire for
The berry was huge, juicy and sweet.
One was definitely not enough.
I could not stop thinking about it.
Those strawberries were my destiny.
So this morning, as Mom and I were driving to her house, I came up with a plan. Mom was reluctant as she needed to tend to some newly planted vegetables . But she succumbed to the call of the berry. I made a quick trip to the office to start payroll, stopped back home to change clothes and we were on our way at 10 am. It took a little over an hour to get to Heron Lake and the berry picking closed at noon.
We found the farm with no problems. It was a hot windy day and I soon realized that Mom would not be able to join me picking--the only way to get to the field was by hayrack. With no time to waste, I parked Mom in the shade where she could see what was going on, had my containers weighed and hopped on the hayrack.
I forgot my phone/camera so I didn't get any photos--the plants were loaded with huge fruit and I was able to quickly fill my containers. I so wished Mom could have enjoyed looking at the vast clean rows of strawberry plants dotted with groups of pickers of all ages.
After checking out, I returned to the car and placed a large bowl in Mom's lap. She popped one in her mouth and sighed deeply. They are just too beautiful for words
While I made dinner, Mom hulled berries--almost reverently. They were that good.
I cooked a batch of jam
We had some for dessert