looking for berries, berries for jam.

Yes sir.

You're looking at fifty pounds of strawberries. On Saturday, the people in the small red house, plus one cousin, dragged themselves out of bed to spend the morning at a local pick-your-own farm. (Well, those of us under the age of 16 did not require any dragging). A more perfect day you couldn't have asked for--not too hot, blue sky, and rows upon rows of beautiful ripe berries.

There is just nothing like strawberries in season. There was a certain giddiness among all the visitors at the farm, kind of like when the kids in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory first walk into the room made of candy. Kids of all ages were scrambling around among the rows, their zeal renewed when they'd come across a good spot or a particularly outstanding specimen (I heard my fair share of, "Ima! Look how big THIS one is!!!")...a good time was had by all and I recommend it for all ages, if you're not growing your own berries. Local small-scale farmers could use our support.

Anyway, we got home and realized that we had just brought fifty pounds of strawberries into our house. So today Jacob and I and aforementioned cousin spent the afternoon cooking and canning strawberry jam and preserves. The rest we're dipping in chocolate or just plain devouring, or freezing (to be used later in pies, ice cream, smoothies, popsicles...)

This has all made me feel rather insecure about our little strawberry jar outside with a few measly plants and halfhearted berries. But we're still excited for what the rest of the season has in store.