Ol had a school holiday today, so we've been busy. Read: I am now pooped, and we've been down a man since Jack stays for chess on Wednesdays. Yo! The party is just about to get started. At some point this morning, we headed to the market (I don't live there despite how it must sound) and were thrilled to run into what look to be actual farm strawberries; fresh, local, just-picked. I'm sure some of that description is a romanticization, but you know how agri-companies' (Driscoll's, etc) berries are giant, uniform, lacking in scent, too white near the stem, and have no flavor? Well, these don't look, smell or taste like that. Also, local berries means enough warmth has finally trickled into our area to ripen these babies to maturity. Yippee!
I can't wait to get going on these and am thinking strawberry-rhubarb pie jam!