It’s strawberry season here in Minnesota right now. And there’s nothing quite like local, juicy, deep red berries. I found a pint at the Hopkins Farmers Market this morning and brought them home for daughter. She ate every last one of them. I’m glad I snuck a few on the drive home.
These strawberries reminded me of a Saturday morning two or three summers ago when daughter woke up entirely too early. I tried to get her to sleep or at least be quiet so husband could sleep in, but nothing worked. So at 63o in the morning, we crossed the river and hit the local Farmer’s Market. She ate an entire pint of strawberries while I sipped my tea, grateful for the moment.