Antique Strawberry Preserves - Part I - The Story



I am enjoying my new kitchen and the brief strawberry harvest.  Even though there was too much rain, the berries are plump and soft.  They are like clouds that melt on my tongue with the taste of flowers.  I really - really - love strawberries.  Do you see my new kitchen window?  I have basil, chimes, a view, and of course wine. 

As I gaze at the mountains and contemplate my strawberries, I get nostalgic.  Of course I do.  That's like my second most common feeling.  (Sigh)  I would put a winky emoticon here, but that seems weird.  No?  Ok.  ; )

Nostalgia

 

I recently spent a few weeks in southern Pennsylvania.  This is a place where you need to watch out for the Amish buggies on the road, but when you finally get home you can enjoy a few glasses of sweet tea and biscuits and gravy.  Oh my, I love going home.  And so does my son.  Not only is he mercilessly spoiled by two sets of grandparents, and one set of GREAT grandparents...he also gets to play with all kinds of "new" toys.