Daddy was always interested in gardening. Both sets of my grandparents had gardens and after his retirement, Daddy had two (he was always an over-achiever!)
He enjoyed the process of gardening. Laying it out, planting, weeding, harvesting and then freezing or canning what he had grown. I find it easier to go to the grocery and buy what I want.
God’s country is ripe with gardens, the soil is good for growing most anything and the spring and summer weather are perfect.
One spring when I was in about the 7th grade, Daddy became enamored with strawberries. I don’t know why they were his infatuation that year but they were.
I don’t even like strawberries, so for me it made no sense whatsoever. Sam is the strawberry eater in the family, not me!
Strawberries need a lot of growing space, something we didn’t have. However, daddy heard about a “pick-your own” garden in North Carolina that grew strawberries and decided that we should go up one afternoon after school and pick.
Being a typical pre-teen, the thought of being bent over in a field picking anything wasn’t my idea of a good time. However, I didn’t have much choice about going. Daddy said we were going and we went.
After school, mama, daddy and I all piled into his two-tone Jeep Cherokee and headed to North Carolina on our strawberry picking adventure. As you can imagine I wasn’t happy about going and was determined to make my displeasure known. I pouted, but to no avail, I WAS going strawberry picking and I was going to like it….. PERIOD, end of story!
When we reached the strawberry fields, we were each given a 1 gallon bucket. The owner advised us that we paid by the gallon.
Looking out onto the fields, I decided to exert my independence and move to a far end of the field, far away from mama and daddy.
Daddy advised that we should be able to fill our buckets in about an hour, so to start picking and we would re-evaluate at the end of the time.
I was bound and determined that I was not going to be bent over in that field of strawberries picking for an hour. I don’t even like strawberries, let Sam come pick them, he is the one that likes them!
Off we went and I began filling my bucket, I picked and picked, cleaning off each plant I came across.
Within about 20 minutes my bucket was filled, but I wasn’t going to let anyone know, I was going to sit right here and soak up some sun.
I sat and waited until the hour had passed and began to make my way back to where mama and daddy were.
When I got back to the cash stand, I got THE LOOK. You know THE LOOK, it is that sideways glare that only parents have the ability to produce.
THE LOOK is the worst thing a child can encounter, it means you have just ROYALLY screwed up.
Being a typical pre-teen I asked the logical question “what?” After all THE LOOK deserved a response, didn’t it?
After delivering my genius of a response, I looked down at mama and daddy’s buckets and then back at mine….. uh-oh, now I knew what THE LOOK was for.
Mama and daddy both had overflowing buckets of beautiful red-ripe strawberries. Even for someone who doesn’t like strawberries, I knew those were pretty.
Looking back at my bucket, I saw some pretty red berries, but mostly I saw half-ripe white plants that would eventually, if left on the vine, become something worth eating.
For now, they were just unripened strawberries that were going to cost daddy money and not be used for anything.
Uh-oh, now THE LOOK made perfect sense. Daddy paid the man and we loaded back into the Jeep for a long ride home.
In my typically youthful mindset, I thought I could make it all better by talking and making excuses, that didn’t work well. I continued to get THE LOOK all the way home.
I don’t quite remember how the story ended as sometimes it is just better to erase certain memories from your brain. I do know that this trip was my one and only visit to the strawberry fields.
For the years that followed, if I was ever perceived as uppity Daddy only had to mention the strawberry fields and it shut me down, no more uppity for me!
After years …… MANY years, we eventually laughed about my inept ability to harvest strawberries. At the time THE LOOK spoke loud and clear, thus ending my gardening adventures forever!
Today, I leave the picking to the experts, I leave the growing to the experts and I never forgot THE LOOK!