Strawberry pickin' smitten

We dilly-dallied o'er to the local farm this weekend past for some spontaneous strawberry picking. It's peak season for these bodacious berries, which meant there were plenty of nomads wandering the patches beneath the cloud-ridden skies. It was quite charming to see families with munchkins running amok who yelp at every discovery of a plump strawberry itching to be plucked off its vine. It's not as endearing to witness grown-ups do the same, but the Mister and I happily hollered over the organic berries anyhow. It isn't everyday that we have the liberty to gather fresh fruit that goes straight from the farm to our possession. Okay, and I confess, we've been consuming an excessive amount of ice cream and pastries of late, and are in dire need of some antioxidants.


This was seconds before my hat smacked the Mister in his face.
On a quest to procure the perfect strawberries for homemade strawberry pie. That's what the Mister hopes we are using them for, at least.
Have you ever gandered at white-hued strawberries before? I hadn't.


I went a smidgen berry crazy, as you can tell by the prolific basket on the left. Vintage baskets enable such behavior.


It was a delightful reverie all in all, for we amassed a bountiful batch of strawberries for only about three buckaroos, and a profusion of pictures, too! The Mister appreciates simple, three dollar dates, and I fancy immortalized memories, so we give it all thumbs up. If you're in the area, you must stop by and give the strawberry patch a try.