I am completely aware of the ridiculousness of a 32-almost-33 year-old boy-man writing about strawberries.
I am.
I am completely aware that you know what strawberries look like so I won’t put a photo up.
I am also aware of the irony that this time last year I was working on a respectable opium habit.
that being said, I had a great time in a strawberry patch today. see, I woke up and I walked poppy down fields of bright yellow – the same walk I did two years ago around this same time – to the little country pub. poppy likes this pub ’cause there’s a pond in the back where she can play treasure-hunter. we walked back, her wet and my greying mustache tasting of lager-top. she went down for a nap and I went to go find this strawberry patch Mel had mentioned the night before. I think she said ‘go left’ but I couldn’t be certain. I went left and in about 20 minutes was certain. there was a big strawberry patch.
I picked up two plastic containers [there should have been three, but I spent money on that pint previously, if you remember] and walked to where the farmer pointed me to walk. ‘plenty out there’ he said which made me feel better as if there weren’t I had no idea where the rouge one’s would hide. it took about 10 seconds tip-toeing between the rows of sometimes-bright and sometimes-not red spots before deciding to sit on the path and cross-legged.
the smell. the smell alone was worth it. everyone should smell a strawberry field.
have you ever spent time in a strawberry field? I hadn’t. ever. I mean, I love them and when I had two maids in China, one of their jobs was to prepare my smoothies with them, but as far as what they looked like and where they grew, I had nothin’. but trust me when I tell you it didn’t take long for this to become a favorite thing of mine to do that I’ll probably forget about.
I didn’t pick the one’s up top, ’cause the sun made them less-than-glorious and realized that if you pull up the leaves, sometimes you could find a treasure yourself. not all the way on the bottom, but sometimes maybe. some were big and some were small – I picked mostly perfect ones so Mel would be happy and a few not-so-perfect ones because high-school kids can be mean.
I laughed as I thought about how much the Brits love their strawberries – once, when living in Spain, I went skiiing with this absolute pikey named Matt. he had barely any teeth from the drugs and the fights that the drugs might have caused and lots of tattoos all dealing with one football team. he was nasty but he was also my friend. he wanted to go skiiing so we did and all he talked for the last 20-minutes of the trip were the strawberries-and-cream that the chalet on top had. I trusted him.
so I picked two baskets worth and paid. laughing at the 70-something nagging her husband to buy more tomatoes, but only if they were English. I didn’t know if there was a taste difference or if they’re just extremely nationalistic down here. I walked away with my strawberries.
the cars made their way far right and so did I, as this was a country road. they waved and I waved back.
thanks for that.
I got back home and poppy was still in her place where I left her.
I am completely aware of the ridiculousness of a 32-almost-33 year-old boy-man writing about strawberries.
I love strawberries & I love this story.
it is written..”A great man is he who does not lose his child’s heart.”
mmm, a delicious story! and quite the opposite of 2008’s “experience” though no experience goes unrewarded even if the lesson should keep you from going there again! so glad you had a chance to experience the joys of strawberry picking, a summer favorite. and you’re right about the smell of a strawberry patch, everyone should experience this at least once (also fresh mangoes fresh plucked from the tree is exquiste!). as a matter of fact most ‘things’ fresh plucked are divine…speaking of…
hang in there Aric, nothing to get hung about, i can’t image her to not be as excited, anxious and happily awaiting for your reunion
of all the wonderful people i know, i couldn’t wish for a more happier return…your heart deserved this moment.
~A
by the way, did you know the full moon of june is called the, “strawberry moon”? Some more strawberry trivia:
-One cup of strawberries contains only 43 calories.
-Unripe berries will not ripen once picked.
-It takes about 10 to 15 minutes to pick a quart, if the berries are reasonably plentiful
-Strawberries were originally called strewberries because the fruit was “strewn” amongst the leaves of the plant.
-Cultivation of strawberries began in Europe in the 1300’s (http://www.pickyourown.org/strawberries.htm)
My grandmas strawberrys are the best…but mum bought cheap ones witch come from a field right outside our village, now we have plenty of strawberry jam ^_^
Strawberries retain more pesticides than almost any other fruit, so it’s always best to buy them organic. Consumer Reports tested fruit and along with strawberries, the other bad ones for pesticides were apples, bell peppers, celery, cherries, grapes, nectarines, peaches, pears, potatoes, raspberries and spinach.
On the other hand, asparagus, avocados, bananas, broccoli, cauliflower, corn, kiwi, mangoes, onions, papayas, pineapples and sweet peas had barely any pesticide residue, so buying organic for those isn’t as necessary.