At six o'clock this morning, my friend S and I headed to Hastings to pick strawberries. When we arrived at the berry picking farm we were given a cardboard box and a flag to mark where we finished picking. Three nuns were picking next to us. The picking was fun. As I picked the berries, I thought about how berries are like people... different sizes, shapes, and colors. We left picking berries and went to downtown Hastings, but the antique stores didn't open until ten o'clock. By twelve thirty I had cleaned half of the strawberries and made a pie (first time making a fresh strawberry pie).
This was my first time picking strawberries. Ironically, S and I went blueberry picking in Alaska. It was also my first time picking blueberries. What's next for us? raspberries? I would have never imagined myself picking berries, cleaning berries, and making a pie out of berries. In three hours I'll find out if the pie is any good. Maybe I'll have more berries cleaned and in the freezer by that time!
Comments