So

I know the strawberry crop will be light this year.  You know the strawberry crop will be light this year.  But apparently the memo never made it out to the yard.  The plants have no idea they’re not supposed to be bearing as they are. (Insert eye roll here.)

Not only was it hot as Hades today but it was also muggy and wet from an afternoon shower.  It didn’t make it any more fun when the resident crow came to perch on top of the utility pole behind my house and cackle at me.  I’m certain it was the same one who I entertained when attempting to repair my front steps.  Did I ever show you how they turned out?  No?  Ah.  I’ll have to do that as they are wondrous. 

Anyway I pointed out to Sir Mocking Crow that birds are supposed to snatch up strawberries.  Peck ‘em to bits so they are inedible.  Not a damn one was touched!  Nor has the wandering skunk hasn’t paid a nocturnal visit.  Not even any slug holes or trails.  Damn them!  A little help would be appreciated but no, no such luck.  I guess they’re saving them all for me.  Oh joy.  (Insert sarcasm here.)

I picked over a quart.  Ate a huge handful that wouldn’t balance on top of the container.  Ignore another bunch by pretending they weren’t ripe enough for today’s harvest.  They’ll be there tomorrow.  Or Friday.  Or whenever next I force myself to deal with them again.

I know, I know.  Stop whining over ultra-fresh fruit at my fingertips.  I might if the damn ice cream truck ever showed up once I was finished slicing them.  (Insert dramatic sigh here.)