04/23/2007

My mind had been turning over since reading Sabrina's "Strawberry" blog. Sabrina took Jackson and Karis to pick strawberries. The thought of taking Nathan out to an orchard had entered my mind, but I'd never followed through on the aspiration.

Strawberry patches mean something to me.

I used to pick strawberries with my Grandma Durling. We would go down the rows, peeking under the leaves for the biggest, reddest berries. Grandma could pick six berries for every one that I found. And I loved the quiet...and the heat...and the smell (yes, you can smell them) of the strawberries...and the taste of a hot berry right from the bush. I don't know why I feel sentimental about this--it was such an ordinary thing. It was just so completely good.

And then we would take the berries home and prepare them for freezing, making jam, and just eating! Grandma had this great, old-fashioned strawberry stem-remover. It was like a fancy pair of really thick tweezers. I can't really describe it. I loved sitting in the kitchen and removing the stems. Strawberries in one bowl. Stems in another. I would imagine that I was living in "the good ole days" when women wore long dresses and bonnets and didn't have the option of buying pre-washed, pre-de-stemmed strawberries. I liked living in a frontier past that I only knew second-hand. I guess the small, imaginative, adventurous part of me wanted to be a pioneer. It's easier to desire that kind of adventure on the other side...I mean, we know that the west WAS won...so, I guess that takes some of the 'scary' out of it. But, I digress.

So this morning I took the kids. Queenie pulled leaves off of the plants she could reach. Nathan actually picked strawberries, but it took a while for him to understand the concept of an 'ideal' strawberry. Originally he took great pride in finding the most exotic strawberries. "Mom! Green baby strawberry!!!" He plops it in our bucket. I discreetly remove it. "Big black strawberry, see?" Rotten. Nice. Eventually we collected about two pounds of berries. Nathan's hands were red, but he was so proud of himself!

And, you know what? Part of me still wants to be that pioneer. I remembered that I love picking strawberries. And I love breaking the ends off of fresh green beans before cooking them. I like peeling corn. I like deafening silence and the smell of green things. I like walking through fields...touching the tops of wheat. I like picking wildflower bouquets. I even kind of like the sound of a fly or two buzzing through the house. To reminisce. To be taken back.

What a wonderful day.