It's strawberry time

When it comes to strawberries, I'm a fanatic. I love 'em. I guess I'm a lot like Forrest Gump's best friend in the Army, Pvt. Benjamin Buford 'Bubba' Blue. That man just loved his shrimp. His famous lines from the movie come back to me:

"Anyway, like I was sayin', shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that's about it."

That's me and strawberries.

I love them on shortcake, I love them in pie. I love them fresh, with a little cream, and I love them blended in to homemade strawberry ice cream.

That love drives my son and I, every June, over to Gettings Garden between Sanborn and Sheldon, to pick our own.

I'm convinced that berries, eaten just hours after you've picked them yourself, are nature's perfect food.

We made that trip the other night, my sister, Drew and I. Our goal was to beat the Saturday crowds, and stay out of the noonday sun.

Times have changed since Drew and I started our pilgrimages. Back then, I swore Drew ate more than he actually put in the box. Employees should have weighed him on the way in and on the way out, and charged me for those berry-patch nibbles.

Now he's a pretty efficient picker, and a real help. And, now with him actually helping, my inclination to pick far more than my schedule will allow me to deal with reasonably, has reached epidemic proporations.

We came home with 40 pounds of berries.

And that's when I realized that my refrigerator would never hold 40 pounds of berries.

Which meant some emergency cleaning, hulling and freezing -- that night.

And a weekend of making pies and other goodies.

The ultimate fresh berry treat, in my book?

Drew's strawberry jam.

Not mine, because there seems to be some chemical in me that does not allow jam to jell. I make really good ice cream topping, failed jam efforts, but have no luck with the jam itself.

Drew, on the other hand, has never had a failed batch of jam. And, it's made him very popular with a select group of family and friends, who look forward to his yearly offerings.

So I handed over the sugar, the jars, the boiling water bath. It's good, I tell him, to have a signature dish, something you're known for. Strawberry jam will be his calling card.

In the meantime, I eat those berries fresh, by the handful. I'm surprised I don't turn a shade of light red from all the berries ingested in a week or so.