Strawberry Fields

While Scott was gone to Moab for a "Boys Weekend" --I thought it would be fun to pick strawberries with the kids. yeah. I was only 6 mo. preg. at the time, and unfortunately the day we picked was the hottest day that week. I insisted the kids use the bathroom before we left. We arrived, got some boxes, and started picking. I showed them how to choose the red shiny berries, and Sweet A got right to work. Little Man C followed behind me, complaining that I needed to pick berries for his box too. I think we were there five minutes when A looked up, saw the port-a-potty across the field and declared that she needed to go. Great. We trooped down our row, left the boxes and climbed into the green sweat-box. Needless to say, we all had to rotate through. (Even if I don't have to go in the beginning, I surely have to by the time they are through-power of suggestion, I suppose...) Now I felt really hot and sweaty with limited bending ability. We trooped back across our row to finish picking...and Little Man C decided he was done. He walked all the way to the start of the row, found a piece of plastic, sat down in the dirt and started playing/digging. Of course, he was wearing his new white shirt (despite my earlier protests) and he got completely filthy. He informed me that it was "just part of picking strawberries, Mom. You get dirty." (Hmm, yes, which is why you don't wear white...) (This pic doesn't quite capture the extent of the dirt and strawberry juice down his front)
This is the box of berries that Sweet A picked all by herself. She was such a trooper, but even she had her limits and called it quits--way before I was ready. She would stand up, wipe her forehead, and exclaim that picking berries was hard work!
Here are the seven pounds of berries we took home. I had other errands to run that afternoon, and didn't get back to them until that evening-and some had already spoiled! I did manage to make two batches of freezer jam, though, and it's the most beautiful dark red. I never knew how delicious field-ripe berries are-they literally melt in your mouth. I'd send you some for Christmas, but I don't think it would survive the trip!