Strawberries

Growing up we raised acres of strawberries. I still have a small patch of them now, but they only come on a few at a time. Today, while driving in Celina, I saw the Jutte farm truck selling four quart buckets of strawberries. I had to stop and the moment I came around the corner of the truck, memories of my past jumped right into my heart. There is nothing like the smell of fresh strawberries! I was immediately transported back in time to a simplier life when I was young and helped on the farm. It was back breaking work to set the runners, fight the frost, pull weeds, and hoe, but we did it as a family and would sing and talk to each other the whole time we were out there. The worst mornings were the ones when Dad would come wake us up, long before the sun rose, to help keep the frost from killing the crop. Back forty years ago a quart of picked strawberries cost fifty cents. Needless to say they were a little more than that today, but I still had to have some to take home. I am looking forward to having a big dish of them tonight.