Friday, June 4, 2010
the best season.
that, right there?
is precisely why i can never move away from oregon.
there is nothing (NOTHING) that compares to a juicy, sweet oregon strawberry.
and if you've never had one, you have no opinion on the deliciousness of said berry.
it's not your fault that you're wrong. they are just THAT good.
so much of my childhood is wrapped up in this little fruit.
my grandpa bob was a strawberry farmer all of my life (and well before that too.)
one of my fondest memories of him was that summer when he would come out to the field where i was working and sit and talk with me. and watch in amazement as i ate pound after pound of strawberries (i can pack them in, let me tell you.)
my dad shared this severe love.
and, since he grew up the son of a strawberry farmer, he could pick like a fiend.
my parents would always freeze a crap-ton of berries so that we could have fruit through the winter.
and my dad and i would go out and pick every single berry together.
we would have contests about who could pick the fastest (him) who could pick the most (him again) who could find the biggest berry (me) and who could eat the most (that was usually a tie.)
i complained about having to do it. and whined a lot during said picking since the strawberry plants left me with hives all over my arms (i'm allergic to the leaves.) but i always had fun with him.
and despite having to walk what seemed like miles with heavy bowls of fruit, i never passed up the chance to go picking with dad.