Riding the tractor to the fields.
Calla picking one of our rows.
Finding the best berries.
Every year, I look forward to fresh picked strawberries. It's something I have learned to love since our move to Dairyland. Cory's parents took Calla and I several years ago. I think I have gone every year since. I try to get enough to make freezer jam to last the year and then plenty of extra to make frozen strawberry mush for ice cream. Last year I came up way too short so I decided to double our batches this year.
Cory watched Amelia on his sick day so I could go this morning. Calla and I spent several hours picking berries. Some of Calla's non-stop chatter included: "This is a good one, right Mom?" (I heard this phrase more times than I could begin to count.) "This is a yucky one. It has a line right down the middle." "This is a good...oh wait it has too much green. I'll just throw it in their row." (Oops.) "I don't want to eat any that aren't washed. I'll wait till you wash the ones in your bucket." I do have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed her company. It was much more entertaining than last year. Remember the old grampa man who refused to talk to me? We gathered my three buckets and Calla's almost full bucket and went back to the tractor. This admittedly was her favorite part of the morning. Now onto the jam...
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