Elizabeth’s Journal

You’ll Never Guess What I Just Ate

After an astonishingly warm weekend here—we all wore shorts and T-shirts and the air conditioning came on for three days in a row (highs around 80)—it is literally freezing here today. I’ve been wearing a beautiful woolly scarf from Dale’s uncle Colin most of the afternoon ‘cause I’m just plain cold. Temperature outside is about 37 degrees right now. Dale commented a few years ago that he understood a little better why I could never adjust to the cold—it doesn’t get cold and stay cold here, so you can never settle into it. All it does here is get hot and stay hot.

Anyway, I just went out and filled up all the bird feeders for the little dicky-birds so they can try to stay warm too. After distributing the black oil sunflower seeds, millet, seed blend, and soy nut balls to the appropriate feeders and then putting everything back up so the raccoons, squirrels, and the skunk can’t get into it, I went over to the “vegetable” garden I did last year to check on the strawberries. When Mom and Dad were here over Xmas, I noticed that I had a *lot* of little strawberry flowers and baby fruits on the plants that I’d been too lazy to dig up from last spring (I thought they didn’t work out too well, but I’ve been too much of a procrastinator to do anything about it). The six small plants I bought have spread dramatically and now take up a space about 4 feet by 3 feet.

Well, I poked around and rustled some of the oak leaves that had fallen on top of the strawberry plants (I leave them there figuring it’s natural insulation to help protect them from freezing), and would you believe I found a ripe, huge strawberry? A beautiful deep shade of red (I probably should have picked it about two days ago). Something had nibbled on one side, but I just washed it and cut that bit away, and then I popped the rest of it straight into my mouth. It was like having a bite of sunshine! I think strawberries are about as easy to grow as weeds, and I have plenty of experience with the latter. When I taste a homegrown strawberry, I’m always taken aback at what a burst of flavor it is; nothing at all, not remotely, like the ones sold in stores (even good stores like Central Market or Whole Foods). It was lovely.