I’ve wanted to go strawberry picking for years. I am proud to live in an agricultural state with fertile soil and plentiful sun, and I feel that I should partake in agricultural activities as much as possible from growing our own food to taking advantage of locally grown foods.
Picking strawberries seemed like a romantic Saturday afternoon adventure into the fields. As it turns out, strawberry picking isn’t the feel good agricultural experience that I had envisioned. It’s backbreaking and exhausting. Also, I just had a mole removed from my back and don’t feel up to bending and stretching the broken skin right yet. For me and my sewn up back, strawberry picking was an exercise in squatting and waddling along the aisles. For Eli it was an opportunity to constantly compare my measly collection of misshapen strawberries to his overflowing flat.
In good news, we found an apartment that we LOVE! In bad news, 3 other couples love it too. We’ll find out tomorrow if we get it. I’m hoping, but trying to not worry about it too much.Â
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Eli Picking Strawberries.
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The Farmer Who told Eli to "Take Care of that Little Girl Now."