“It’s not very cerebral. Let’s leave it at that.”
“The Canadian Tire flyer. Welcome to shopping in the North.”
“Just finished reading this book by JK Rowling, the one that isn’t Harry Potter. It was a little meh.”
(*We’re taking a weekend break from our photo challenge. Mostly because I can’t be trusted to be home on a weekend night now that I’ve gotten rid of Saturday shifts)
With June comes STRAWBERRY SEASON!
I wait for the news from the local strawberry field that picking has begun. After a tequila soaked Friday night a friend and I made plans to go out and pick some of those beauties up.
So, after a full night of sleep I was picked up by my friend (with her 6 month old in tow) and we traveled across the city to the strawberry farm.
It was packed, filled with families and older folks who wanted strawberries. We opted for the “already picked” strawberries- we could have gone into the field but who does that? I vote that we wait until the six month old can walk and have him do it for us.
When we got to the strawberry line it wasn’t too long. But before long it we stopped moving. And then a very earnest 18 year old climbed on a ladder and made the announcement- they were out of the strawberries, and we would have to wait for the pickers to go to another field and start picking. We were in for a 20 minute wait. We had absolutely no issue with that, especially since we weren’t the ones picking them. And we had a very smile-y baby to play with while we waited the extra 20.
But the crowd did start to grow behind us. And the 18 year old made another appearance, giving an update to the throngs that had arrived behind us. He then went on to tell us that these strawberries (Albion) are “eating strawberries” and not for making jam (that should be made with “Wendy” or “Jule” strawberries). Also, they would be limiting purchases to 4 quarts (1/2 flat) to each person. We heard the groans of the strawberry deprived behind us.
They were also pushing the homemade strawberry sundaes at 10:30am. Which some of the older folks were not impressed with. Some of them thought a pre-lunch sundae was inappropriate. I’m all:
We were served fairly quickly, and we bought a flat with the aim to split the 8 quarts. Happy time!
And then as were were walking to the car through the mass of people waiting to buy their strawberries, my friend carrying her happy baby and me carrying 8 quarts of strawberries.
As I passed one surly character I heard him say: We’ll THAT’S more than 4 quarts.
I couldn’t stop myself. My response: Settle down, it’s four each and there are plenty of strawberries for you to pick if you want.
Boom. Walk away, don’t look back.
Who do you think you are? If you are really itching for some strawberries either a) get up early or b) get yo’ ass out there and pick your own berries.
If I could do it with a mild tequila hangover I’m pretty sure you can make it happen.
So, I went back to pick up my car at my friend’s house (the tequila drinking forced me to cab it home the night before), and came home with these puppies:
And so I did a few things right away- froze a quart of whole berries, sliced a quart for breakfast (ok, let’s be honest, ice cream), covered a few in yogurt and froze them, and left a quart for snacking. And for the last quart I made something exciting. Something I haven’t had since I was a kid- I made my own popsicles.
Better than that, I made 3 ingredient popsicles.
Pretty simple, sweeten plain yogurt with Fort Frances honey, slice some strawberries and layer the heck out of it.
Freeze them for a while, and this is what you get:
“I’ve just returned from a BBQ and spa afternoon that finished with me drinking far too much tequila and needing to cab it home. Here’s what the glass front door looks like after I stumble home.”
“Here’s my front door. It has those sweet blinds that are encased in glass so they never get dusty. Also, a keypad lock, which makes me feel authoritative, like a manager at a fast food restaurant, or a government personnel at the White House.”
“One of three doors into my place.”
Homemade everything- marmalade, mulligatawny, French lentils. Plus a lot of Dijon mustard, berries, Pelligrino, apple juice (left over from the visits from the cousins), my favourite plain yogurt and some Palm Bays (the new key lime/cherry).”
“There’s some hemp protein powder, but other than that, we stick to our staples: beer and maple syrup.”
“My food: ketchup, mustard (love the condiments), salad greens, milk, old grapes.”
“I so need a double screen- surrounded by an Audre Lorde quote (‘No woman is responsible for altering the psyche of her oppressor even when that psyche is embodied in another woman.’) and my Hillary Clinton embroidered meme (‘Who run the world? Girls.’). Also a stone and a tangle to keep my fidgeting ways happy. Nice view of the the park, though!”
“Well, this picture makes me feel boring. Core French office, elementary school, Northwestern Ontario. I miss having my own classroom!”
“The view from my cubicle. The chairs on the right are part of the permanent collection- we’re not allowed to sit on them. Sigh.”
“Quinoa! Starting to make a big quinoa salad on Sunday nights for lunches- quinoa, red pepper, red onion, celery, chickpeas, dried cranberries, chicken (for extra protein). And almonds. Sorry A.”
“Chicken spinach wrap, banana and strawberries, vanilla yogurt, pb oatmeal cookies. I like to hit up all those food groups.”
“Snack pak: choice of champions. Also, half a sandwich saves on bread.”
We’re blog delinquents.
In an effort to stay connected and to remind people that we haven’t forgotten about the reason for creating this blog we’ve embarked on a 31 day challenge.
The sisters and I devised (ok, I devised) a plan- A finally got herself a phone with a decent camera, time for a blog challenge.
Everyday the three of us will take a picture of the same thing, but in our different city. With the three of us being scattered all across the province this summer it seems like the best way to stay connected. Three photos every day, with a small caption. So you can see how the three sisters are living, even if we’re far apart!
31 days, 93 pictures (that took me a second, had to break out the calculator for that one).
Let’s see if we can bang this out in 31 days, shall we?
Day One: The Shoes We Wore