Friday, November 23, 2007
I grew up on a farm.
A strawberry farm.
Actually, my grandparents rented some farmland and had a U-Pick strawberry field, which is where the above pic was taken. My parents helped out with it every summer, so when we were small, we’d spend a few weeks in June with my grandparents.
A few years later, my grandparents stopped doing that, and my Dad started doing it near our house. He rented farmland right next to the Green River. My childhood is full of memories of dirt, weeds, weeds, dirt, and fishing or swimming in the Green River. (You know the one…with the dead bodies.)
When I was in 6th grade, we moved into an old farmhouse. At one point or another, we had dogs, cats, chickens, pigs, sheep, even a small pony. We also lived on about 2 acres, and on the back patch my dad planted raspberries. One summer I spent all of July running a small U-Pick raspberry field in our backyard. (The most boring summer of my youth.)
We also had blueberries. To this day, I give people a litmus test: Which do you like better, blueberries, or strawberries?
I’d go for the raspberries first, then blue, then straw. I always feel guilty eating strawberries because most people LOVE them and I am just “hmph, o.k. sure.” about them. Why should I eat something just to eat it when they worship the tiny red gods?
And I can’t help it, but I keep hearing Merrel Streep whispering hoarsely “I had a farm near the Green River….”
Blueberries, in general. However, if we’re talking about the “perfect” blueberry against the “perfect” strawberry, I would have to take the latter.
Strawberries, sun warmed and preferably handed to me by a dirty happy child.
Such cute pics!
I am a raspberry, then strawberry then blueberry person.
I’m with Tracy. Although really it’s a trick question—blueberries are wonderful, too. Raspberries are really good, too.
Can you tell I just had a berry salad? Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. Heaven.
I grew up going out with my family to pick wild blueberries, low bush and high bush. There’s nothing like standing in the middle of a patch of bushes dripping with fat wild bluberries….until you realize that you’re basically sitting right in the middle of a bear magnet. I can actually close my eyes and see the mountainside as we sit on the scrubby ground and pick all the little low bush blueberries, with the sun shining and a breeze blowing……
So while real strawberries are wonderful, I’m going to go with real blueberries on this one.