Our family loves a good seasonal tradition, and one of the best of springtime is strawberry picking. We started nine years ago during our first ever Real Spring (when you grow up in Florida you only have vague notions that such things actually exist, much less come around every year without fail). Our people were tiny, the picking took hours, they ate more than they collected and whatever they did manage to collect usually got spilled. A few times. By the time we left we usually had just enough strawberries in our bucket to make the anticipated strawberry shortcake for lunch.
Time marches on and I'd forgotten to notice, until this year, really, that while our tradition has strongly remained, the logistics of it have changed. I'm pretty much fresh out of little people these days (because when your oldest is four, that's tiny. But when your baby is four? Not so tiny at all). The picking gets done in record time and we always end up with an abundance of strawberries. Way more than just one lunch worth of strawberry shortcake. But there's still the shortcake, and I'm pretty sure that tradition isn't going anywhere.
