Sunday was perfect for our annual visit to Jones Farm to pick strawberries. I've been going there for more than 20 years. This year three Fab kids, Grandma (that's me) and our friend, Jackie, picked two full flats from our assigned rows in less than an hour! Pretty good considering Jackie was a first-timer and Charlie is only three. The first year Sam picked berries he found one that looked like Mickey Mouse. Now it's a contest to find the most unusual looking berry. Sam won again.
The real work begins after driving home in a car filled with a luscious aroma that smells nothing like those artificial air fresheners. Ripe berries need immediate attention. After dividing our spoils I ended up with two quarts of frozen berries (tartes, trifles, smoothies, lemonade, delicious in a glass of prosecco), a quart of strawberry rhubarb sauce (skip the food coloring, yummy on ice cream, yogurt, puddings) and shortcake for dinner. One of the best parts is reconnecting with the childhood memory of picking berries with Grandma Dora and Grandpa Carl in Stanwood, Washington.
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