OVER MY SHOULDER

I have a small patch of strawberries in my garden which I have been trying for 3 years or so to get established. The first year, there were a lot of berries, but during the production season, we had so much rain that the berries rotted in the patch---the second season, a late frost killed most of the fruit, and the third season the summer was so dry that I lost the most of my plants. Finally this season I have a pretty decent crop.

I find that raising strawberries is just like any crop that the farmers plant and raise---it is subject to many conditions over which we have no control--particularly the weather. Anyone who thinks that a strawberry patch is not work has never successfully had one. By the time you keep the plants watered to get them established, keep the weeds and grass out, train them into rows and get to harvest time, you have earned the berries. (but they are worth it)

Then I find that the birds (that my wife feeds and calls to our block) love the berries just as much as I do---so to the hardware or garden shop to get “bird netting” --which I have to put bricks on to keep the wind from blowing it off--not to mention removing it every time I am ready to pick berries. By the way both Christine and I enjoy the birds but I am not anxious to share my berries with them.

Yesterday, as I was picking berries, I was reminded of the strawberries that we used to have at home when I was a kid. Some seasons, we would have a small patch, some season, we would have a large patch, and some seasons, we would not have a patch. The way that we all loved strawberries with good separated cream on them, I never really understood why we did not always have a patch. Now that I try to keep a patch myself, I understand. (and I am supposedly retired and have time to work on them.)

As a Kid, I never liked to pull the weeds and grass out of the garden, flower beds or the strawberry patch. (I do enjoy the process now though--within reason). I recall that we would get the plants from a neighbor or sometimes from Henry Field and start our patch. I recall that when we cleaned the chicken house, we would spread the droppings and straw on the strawberry patch and garden. We often lost many of the plants to dry weather during the summer and the fruit to the frost in the spring.

As a Kid, I recall that I thought that picking berries was quite a burden, but it was fun to watch the pan or bucket fill up, and certainly it was a treat to sit down to a large bowl of the berries spread over a piece of Mom’s made from scratch biscuit dough short cake, all flooded with good separated cream. The only problem with strawberries is that although the preserves that Christine makes is excellent the year around, the berries are never as good after they are preserved or frozen as they are fresh.

I can recall as a youngster, that in the years that we did not have a strawberry patch (and sometimes when we did) it was great fun and a delicious treat when we would find a patch of wild strawberries. Usually, finding wild strawberries was an accident, as the insects, birds, and animals also like the wild berries, thus one has to catch them at the right time to get any ripe berries. ---Then one is never sure where a patch with berries will be found. Usually, they would be in the edge of a prairie meadow or in the pasture.

Once that we “stumbled” on to a patch we would be on some other mission-- maybe on a fishing outing, maybe looking for a baby calf or a cow, maybe “fixing” fence and maybe just an outing for no reason. In any event, once we found a patch of wild berries, our cap or hat would serve as the container for the ripe berries. (We would not dare leave them, as by the next day, they would probably be gone--or we might not find them again--or time would not permit us to get back) I would guess that more wild strawberries have been picked in more caps or straw hats than any other container.

If you have never picked wild strawberries, you have missed a real experience ----the berries are about the size of an average garden pea with the largest ones being as large as a small marble--and very few of them. It takes most of the afternoon to pick enough wild berries to fill one straw hat---or to have enough for the family supper. You also needed to keep an eye out for a snake, as often one would be in the area--not necessarily to hurt you but to scare the daylights out of you. I can recall how proud we boys would be when we would find a berry patch and bring a hat full of berries to Mom to prepare for supper.

Mom always “seem” pleased and happy that we brought the berries home---however, having prepared wild strawberries for a meal that my sons brought in when they were youngsters leads me to believe that Mom may not have been as happy as she seemed to see the berries. ---Do you know how long it takes to wash and stem a half gallon of those little devils.

However, once we sit down to a short cake of those wild berries, it was always worth it---I believe that the flavor of the wild berries is better than any strawberries that I have ever tasted----maybe the enjoyment of finding and picking them makes them taste better. Thank goodness though the berries in my patch are much larger, thus easier to prepare. (particularly since Christine does the preparation)

Think that I will give Steve or Mike a call and run up to the meadow north of the old wood lot on the old Swank place and see if the wild strawberries are ripe--I am sure that Christine would be happy to prepare them for supper.