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strawberry season

some of the strawberries we picked

more precious than rubies

A few years ago Harvey had his birthday party at the berry farm; falling as it does at midsummer his birthday is always closely associated with the strawberry harvest. He hasn't let me put strawberries in his cake for a few years now—he doesn't care for fruit with cake, he says—but he's still a big fan of them generally. And now that he's big he's a fantastic help picking them too!

the boys standing in front of their strawberries

they're real pickers

We went picking last Tuesday, first thing in the morning before it got too hot. The boys enjoyed the hayride out to the fields, and all three of them were raring to go when I passed out the containers. Lijah's enthusiasm lasted until his fourth berry picked, but the bigger boys worked hard until their four quarts were well filled. It was very impressive. We got ten quarts—fifteen pounds—all together. Then a couple days later all three boys helped Leah mash the berries; and once the weather cooled down a little bit this week I made most of them into jam. Ten and a half pints should last me and Harvey a little while... (Zion prefers blueberry jam; Leah doesn't eat sugar and Lijah doesn't eat food). Of course, we set some aside for strawberry shortcake. The only thing better than strawberry shortcake is leftover strawberry shortcake, and we had that too yesterday. Strawberry season and life is good.

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