When I was a kid one of my summer traditions was going strawberry picking with my best friend. We'd go to a pick-your-own place near our hometown and I'd always end up with more berries than I knew what to do with--because I was really there for the picking and the eating, and not the processing.
As I grew older other things began to take precedence over the summers; working at summer camp, moving across the country, traveling around the world (that was her, by the way; I've yet to make it out of the states). Once we were both in town at the start of summer--but the strawberries weren't any good that year and there weren't any to pick.
What was once a summer tradition had become mostly a summer memory, but we have managed to go picking this past summer (one upside to my being fired mid-May), and true to course, I picked more berries than I knew what to do with.
I made strawberry crumble cake, strawberry pound cake, strawberry muffins (which weren't any good), strawberries on ice cream, strawberries for breakfast, strawberries for midnight snack...and at the end of it all I still had a quart of them to freeze. That quart is still frozen, and sometimes in the evenings I like to pull out the container, chip off a few berry slices and taste all the memories of a childhood summer.
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