Tag Archives: babies

Strawberry Season, by j


(*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)


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:

pop strawberries

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.

pop ingredients

pop top layer

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:





Open Letter to Bob Geldof, by j


Dear Geldof,

Yes, “Astala” is quite a unique name.  And I can kind of understand why you would beg your daughter to change your newborn baby grandson’s name.  It is fairly odd.

But when you have named your own daughters “Peaches”, “Fifi Trixiebell”, “Pixie” and “Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily” you kind of don’t have a leg to stand on.


A Person Who Wouldn’t Use Their Child’s Name As A Way To Feel Special and Unique