I love berries. Earlier this week I was in the car headed to a week of fun work in St Pete, Florida. Its not a bad drive at all – I get in the car at my house and seven hours later I pull into my sister’s driveway. Podcasts and audio books keep me company, and I always pack a PB and J for the drive since I’m not a fast food fan. Nothing stops me except a fuel and potty break, then its back on the road quickly.

Except for Monday, when I spotted the UPICK sign along the highway. About 10 miles of giant billboard strawberries tempted me to stop. In my mind, I calculated how long it would take me, and just how deep into rush hour traffic my sweet bliss would cost me. Over an hour and I would be hitting Tampa at 5:00, one of the most frustrating cities I’ve travelled through. (And this comment, from an Atlanta resident!)

I could taste the sweet warm berries, ripe and drippy, messy and perfect. Not the grocery store kind, those boxes of pretty red ones that taste like plastic, oh no. I wanted real berries. As I passed the last sign that said, “Turn here”, I did. No, not for the UPICK, but for a container of berries that someone else toiled over, and spent the time I couldn’t afford. I arrived in St. Pete with a pink stained shirt, smelling like strawberries. Heaven!

Here’s one of my favorite strawberry recipes, to celebrate strawberry season. (Mom would like it for Mother’s Day, too!)