Friday, May 22, 2009


We live a few minutes away from a strawberry farm. On Friday, I stopped by and purchased four flats of strawberries.

Over the weekend, I froze 10 half-pints of strawberry puree, canned 8 half-pints of strawberry jam, made a strawberry cake, strawberry bread and froze 20 bags of strawberries.

I am not sure what encourages my pioneer woman tendencies--I am a new kind of feminist I suppose, and there are many of us all over the world of blogging (and in a recent NY Times article.) We possess a delight in the waning domestic arts--perhaps because we can afford to engage in them if we wish. There is more to it than that though--much, much more.

For me as an artist, there is also the sensual, visual pleasure of taking on mountains of red, red, sweet, ripe strawberries--insuring we'll all be able to partake of them in some form or another well into the dark days of winter.

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