There’s always those moments in life that you don’t want to repeat. Then there are the moments in life that you would repeat over and over again. This past Wednesday was one of those days. As you may have already realized, I went to pick Strawberries this past Wednesday. I don’t ever remember doing this growing up (although, Mom begs to differ on this one), and in reality found it quite enjoyable. Whether it was the fresh air, the beautiful scenery, the comfort of being on a farm, or just being with Mom, it was an awesome experience.
It began as we pulled into the dirt driveway of the Strawberry Farm. I chose a local place in my town, so I could support my local farms. We should all do this people! We got out of our car, approached the wood shed and with not many a word we were handed aluminum baskets to gather our Strawberries in. The direction given was to the left and as far back as we could make it down the dirt path. The trek began, and we decided to cut through the middle of the field – no worries, we weren’t trekking through plants, there were designated cross-over spots. Our feet wouldn’t land on one row until we were already looking ahead to the next row to pick on. So, onward we would go continuing to the next row and so forth. The Strawberries always seemed redder the further we went in. This went on for about 7 or 8 rows, until we decided that the next row would always look better, but we should stay where we are because this row was just as beautiful when you really took time to appreciate it – sound like life a bit???
The first Strawberry of our journey, picked by my wonderful Mom.
Back bending after back bending, strawberry after strawberry, filled quart after filled quart. Before too long we had picked 16 quarts. On a side note, we were trying to get done before these two older ladies to our right, but then we realized they were picking 32 quarts and were almost done once we got our 16 quarts done, so we had to concede. *smiles*
Mom and I made our way back across the rows, offering to help an elderly couple make it to the “next redder row” just as we had done. As we made the trek up the dirt path now to the cash register, we noticed there were so many other produce items they were growing here. There were greens galore, broccoli – confession, had never actually seen how broccoli grew, not sure I ever even had an idea how it did grow – tomatoes, lots of peppers, etc. This was truly a beautiful farm. We paid our money and were given flats to place our fresh-picked strawberries in. Mom purchased a cantaloupe and a beautiful head of cabbage for Maw-Maw, and we were on our way back to the car. The service was friendly, not over-bearing, and done with a smile. You really had the feeling like you belonged there.
This leads me to my title…Apples for Strawberries. The name of the farm was Apple Farm. The irony is absolute bliss. It’s here local, and comes highly recommended from The Onyx Plate. The best thing about this farm??? They don’t have a website…I love the simplicity.