Strawberry Therapy

I have had something of a rough week.  I am not complaining, only commenting.  I pride myself on not complaining about these things, and I was under the impression that I was coping fairly well, that is, until my wife took the spoon away from me in the middle of feeding my youngest child and told me to go pick strawberries.

Now, to clarify her reasoning, I should explain that picking strawberries is something like therapy for me.  It is not that I like to eat strawberries so much, though I do like a few now and again.  It is more what strawberries represent to me. They are the first fresh produce of the year, the first food that I can pick and eat from my garden after a whole winter of barrenness and a whole spring of growth.  They are also the first preserves of the year, the first jams and sauces, the first canning.  They mean the beginning of a whole summer and a whole autumn of harvesting, eating, cooking, preparing, and preserving.

So, I spent an hour picking strawberries, in the wetness left by this afternoon’s rain, and I realized exactly how stressed I had been at exactly the same moment as I realized how much less stressed I was rapidly becoming, and I ate a few, and I picked several baskets full, and my fingers were stained red, and I smelled summer.

1 comment
  1. TC said:

    oh we have just had the shortest day here.
    Strawberries sound confusing!

    Leading up to the shortest day I was very grumpy and short tempered
    especially with my son, for not remembering to do
    a couple of his jobs. I felt terrible afterwards.

    On the shortest night, I like to have a fire outside,
    but it was blustery and the wood was wet.
    Instead we lit some candles.

    Since then, the last week, I have felt much relieved
    (though still very cold).

    Most of today I spent cooking (for 10), winter food – Minestrone with a garlic stock; Baked barlotti beans with an all day napoli and a white sauce; beetroots in mandarin, mustard and mint sauce;
    vietnamese coleslaw; baked fennel, pumpkin, sweet potato
    and chats, and an apple and pear pie.

    I feel much better. Glad you do too.
    Wise wife.


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