Monster strawberry from California.

I had a really busy day yesterday and along the way, there was grocery shopping to be done. As I perused the produce section, these gorgeous GIANT strawberries captured my attention they brought back such strong memories of my childhood at my grandma’s farm.

The Strawberry Field back on the hill at Grandma’s farm.

Some time after my Uncle Sonny was killed when his fighter jet crashed in a German potato field in 1955, my grandparents needed something to focus on…a way to bring in extra money and ease their broken hearts. So, when my Uncle Bud was in college studying agriculture, he hatched a plan to turn a section of the fertile ground on top of the hill into a strawberry farm.

Grandma in the hat and Nanny Goff in the overalls working the berry fields.

My earliest memory of the strawberries was in the early ‘60s. I was 8 or 9 years old and banished from picking strawberries because I ate more than I carried to the sorting shed and I stepped on the runners. The runners make more plants which in turn produce more berries. No runners, no berries. I can so clearly remember the huge strawberries that grew in that rich soil. We had berries just like these and one filled my entire hand. You could only get five or six berries in a quart.

Strawberry Pickers. That’s my PopPop in the hat driving the old Model A he converted into a tractor.

I don’t know how many years we had berries. I do remember going to farmer’s market with my PopPop with the bed full of strawberry flats. We went two or three days a week and people knew when to expect us. They’d be standing there waiting for us to get there with these precious gems. They were so sweet and juicy, they hardly needed sugar.

The berries were smaller in 1964. These were in the bed of PopPop’s truck.

When we emptied the truck and headed back to the farm, PopPop always stopped at the old grocery store in Macfarlan and bought me some penny candy with his proceeds from the sale of those strawberries. According to my Uncle Bud, it was an awful lot of work with not a lot of return and they eventually gave it up.

Another view of the strawberry field.

Even though they turned to other endeavors, I will always remember those hot summer days and warm, juicy berries that stained my hands and cheeks. I smiled as I picked up a carton of berries and put them in the buggy. Warm memories on a cold and rainy afternoon.

🍓

 “Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged; parents are the pride of their children.”   ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17‬:‭6‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for my bonus family here in West Virginia. I am blessed with the friendship of the former Mrs. FixIt…a strong woman with a heart of gold.