


Last week, we went on our annual trip to the strawberry patch. There is something about doing this with my kids that feels rural and earthly; like I'm doing something good and connecting with the earth and teaching my kids valuable lessons about work. Then I realize, "not true". In fact, given my kids, this was easier than taking them to the grocery store. I have this happy, do-good, green feeling as I'm leaving, when I realize that the real work is not the picking; but all the was done to grow the berries. Alas, I've a long way to go...
At any rate, happy days. These berries are oh so berrylicious. You have not had a strawberry if you have not hand-picked fresh berries. That's the best part--you don't have to pay for what is consumed while picking. Those are the tastiest berries (as evidenced on Sadie's shirt)
Funny thing. Brooklyn was so excited to leave the patch and pay for the berries. I didn't get it, until upon paying she asked, "Mom, so how many berries did we pick?". She was bummed with the explanation about weight and scales and such.