I guess summer is here, if not weather-wise, then certainly work-wise. Yesterday we started work at 6 am and didn't finish until 9:30 at night. X and I had to borrow a flashlight to get home. Granted, Saturdays are always long, but the big difference is due to the arrival of the strawberries. We harvest on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and then sort, pint, and quart them all on Saturday (in addition to all of the vegetables going to market). Heinz has four different varieties planted in eight 220' beds, with the idea being that they will ripen at different times. So I expect that we'll be harvesting strawberries for the next several weeks. Harvesting strawberries is rough on the knees, and even moreso on the back. When I got home last night it was hard to find the energy to boil pasta; I just wanted to lie draped over the exercise ball to bend my spine back into a more normal position. It's too bad--I have access to all of this wonderful fresh food, and I often don't have the time or energy to do anything ambitious with it.
So strawberries are painful and time-consuming to harvest, but they definitely have other points in their favor. For one, they're beautiful, and it's a pleasure to look down the rows and see thousands of ripe jewels peeking out from under the leaves. And they're also delicious, so delicious. I think it's pretty amazing that the human eye can perceive color differences so subtle that you can look at a strawberry and see the difference between a "will be ripe 6 hours from now" red and a "perfect, at its peak, unbelievably sweet" red. Even the girls can tell the difference. I don't eat a ton of strawberries while I'm working, but I can afford to be picky--it's not at all like buying a quart at the grocery store (or even the farmers market) and getting a mixture of good and not-quite-ripe berries. Eating warm, perfectly ripe strawberries in the field is amazing.
X told me that she thinks I'm getting a tan (on my arms). I think this may be true. Though it could also just be a high concentration of freckles.
So strawberries are painful and time-consuming to harvest, but they definitely have other points in their favor. For one, they're beautiful, and it's a pleasure to look down the rows and see thousands of ripe jewels peeking out from under the leaves. And they're also delicious, so delicious. I think it's pretty amazing that the human eye can perceive color differences so subtle that you can look at a strawberry and see the difference between a "will be ripe 6 hours from now" red and a "perfect, at its peak, unbelievably sweet" red. Even the girls can tell the difference. I don't eat a ton of strawberries while I'm working, but I can afford to be picky--it's not at all like buying a quart at the grocery store (or even the farmers market) and getting a mixture of good and not-quite-ripe berries. Eating warm, perfectly ripe strawberries in the field is amazing.
X told me that she thinks I'm getting a tan (on my arms). I think this may be true. Though it could also just be a high concentration of freckles.
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I'm going next weekend while I'm down in Charlottesville, and hoping to freeze enough to last through the winter, and maybe even some jam and jelly. We'll see.
BTW, GORGEOUS card. It's got the place of honor on the fridge.
Just heard the good news on your hands, though sorry they still hurt. Also, congrats on the boat school!
We are in Kyoto at the moment, totally in love with everything. I heard we'll see you later in the summer. I promise not to ask you to work in my garden!
Cheers, Joy