We have the great fortune of living in a strawberry growing area, and when they are in season the strawberries are delicious, abundant and cheap. This year I have been waiting and waiting and waiting for that last part... cheap. Could it possibly be the R Word? Our government is determined to shield us from glaring truths, but we know better: These abundant, delicious strawberries are a luxury.
And every sensible mother knows luxuries are best served with chocolate. It's like a law or something. I'm pretty sure.
We let Joe run around on the lawn and we opened up Maria's recently refreshed sandbox, so she could make castles and pies. We spread a blanket on the ground. William worked in a school book and I did some sketches for a new quilt.
Max climbed around and chatted... Alex too.
And when the little chocolate cups that Alex baked were cool, we scooped big spoonfuls of strawberries into them. Our Spring picnic. Our afternoon tea.
Be real! We ate off paper plates.
Someone forgot the napkins. We did remember to
The air was aglow with the soft afternoon light and birds sang merrily in the branches. We spoke of finer things and savored our pleasing refreshment.