Last year’s crop promised to be great but I was in Alaska and missed it.

Wild Strawberry Blossoms

This year the berries are smaller and not so plentiful but as sweet as can be. Picking wild strawberries is hard work. They are small and hidden and you have to bend double to find them. It takes a lot to fill the container. The sun is hot and you have to be on the lookout for poison ivy and snakes.

Yummmmm......

It took and hour to pick these and another hour to clean them, but it is enough for two generous shortcakes!

Every time I pick wild strawberries I am reminded of the day when I was a kid and my grandmother asked me and my cousin if we wanted to go with her to pick wild strawberries for a shortcake for dessert. My cousin, the GOOD one, picked lots, me, not so much. I ate most of the ones I picked. My grandmother’s strawberry shortcake was a mouthwatering sight to see, as she passed them out to everyone after supper, homemade cake and farm fresh real whipped cream, juicy red berries- everyone, that is but me! “Where’s mine?” I whined. “Oh dear, you already ate yours,” she said. Grandma didn’t yell, beg, whine or cajole, but if she had a lesson to teach you learned it. And apparently remembered it!  I think I have a pretty good work ethic now and Grandma is surely one of the reasons!

In 2005, I made a quilt based on my grandmother for the “I Remember Mama” exhibit at IQF. You can see a closeup and other information by clicking on Gallery in the side bar.

Bittersweet Memories

Tags: Grandma, strawberries