Come on Rhiannon, have some more strawberries with your hamburger.
Dessert? Why yes, we have dessert. It's called cram a bunch of strawberries in your maw.
I'm sure the goats would just love more strawberries. Chickens too.
Mom, you want some strawberries?
Grandma, you want some strawberries?
Strawberries in the pick'n bucket. Strawberries in the fridge. In the freezer. On the counter top. In the chicken bucket. In the dehydrator. And still more on the plants outside, just waiting to ripen and cause more back pain.
Strawberry muffins, pancakes, smoothies, shortcake, jam.
Is there no end to this madness?!?
I know I shouldn't be complaining. This has got to be the best harvest of any berry we've ever had, and it only took one year. My blueberries are still totally pathetic looking, some just barely passing for a living thing. The blackberries & raspberries died three years ago and although I just bought twelve more canes, I have yet to stick them in the ground.
So although I'll be downing a handful of ibuprofen each morning, I'm thankful for our first real berry harvest.