Winning the War of the Strawberries
Forget planting in-ground for the backyard gardener — and raise those babies!
I was losing the War of the Strawberries. The battle started at my first house. I thought I knew what I was doing — seeing how the strawberries grew on mounds in beautiful rows in the fields where we would pick strawberries.
My wife Mary Jane makes the most incredible strawberry-rhubarb pie with homemade crust. It’s my favorite dessert — well, along with strawberry shortcake, vanilla ice cream, and whipped cream. Oh, and chocolate-covered strawberries.
But the berries left to pick in my yard were barely enough to season my Greek yogurt and granola with “strawberry flavoring.”For those measly berries, the size of my pinky, was all that sweat-time worth it?
No, my friends.
Was it worth it to the voles and the moles and the birds and the rabbits — and maybe some sinister strawberry-devouring weed?
Yes, my friends.
The birds showed me their gratitude — like the blueberries they also adore too — by applauding and bowing and curtain calling all over my deck and chairs and car. Those seeds are distinctive — and pass right through this gardener’s soul.
