I picked strawberries at 8:00 a.m. at a commercial berry-picking farm this perfect summer Sunday morning with John, Anita, Ramona, Kristen, Mary, and Laurel. The seven of us had six five-quart ice cream buckets and one smaller container. After a short ride to the field on the back of a hay wagon, we picked berries in the lush rows designated by the field hands for our group. We filled our buckets filled quickly with only the most perfectly ripe berries leaving all others in the field. For a bit less than $30 the harvest was ours.
What is it we will do with our treasured fruits of summer?
Sunday is a day when no meals are organized by a cooking team or the instructors. A general patterrn is to scrounge for food throughout the day as one feels hungry; however, occassionally, someone spontaneously prepares a breakfast or dinner. When this happens, it sometimes seems as if food has appeared by magic. Today, later sleepers rose, found their way into the kitchen, and discovered a five-quart pail and a smaller container of perfectly ripe strawberries next to the half empty bagel bags, and a pan of hard-boiled eggs. I noticed a few students who had not accompanied the berry pickers making taste tests. Within minutes, a group of students were sitting on the patio enjoying a breakfast of large bowls of vanilla ice cream topped with fresh strawberries. A feast of summer. --LynnPosted by engl8813 at June 19, 2005 12:01 PM