Strawberry season

The Man We Call Dad loves strawberries. For the past few weeks, he has been wondering almost daily when strawberry season would begin. And nevermind that I had planted strawberries in our back garden and he could simply take a peek outdoors to see if there was a flash or two of red… oh no! The Man We Call Dad has been suffering the most powerful hankering for strawberries you’ve ever seen. A few berries at a time would not be enough. He wanted baskets of them.

Last Sunday, with Auntie N as a happy accomplice, he got his strawberries.

As for me, I have never really liked strawberries. I suspect I am slightly allergic, as every time we go picking them, I wind up with an itchy rash on my forearms. So while The Man We Call Dad was off picking out the most perfect basket of strawberries he could find, I took photos of the fruit farm’s funny little house in the hill.

Yes, in the hill. See?




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