Oh boy – it’s February! And in Southern California that means one thing: STRAWBERRIES!! Growing up in Minnesota meant a short strawberry season. Boo! But here in LA, you can find fresh-picked strawberries February through Labor Day weekend. Woo-hoo!
When I drove past a strawberry stand for the first time (in FEBRUARY, people! c’mon that’s freaking awesome!), I let out a shout and immediately turned my car around to pick up a pint of vibrant red strawberries. My friend, Pam, claims she almost got whiplash from my exuberance. Don’t worry, dad—she is, of course, exaggerating. I drive slowly and carefully even when I hear the siren call of fresh, juicy strawberries.
I proudly took my coveted strawberries into the office and made everyone smell how absolutely wonderful they were. Most indulged me with a smile. A few noted that they forgot the simple pleasure of enjoying fresh strawberries.
Those luscious strawberries perfumed my office all afternoon, but I waited until I got home to devour them. They needed no sugar or whipped cream. They were perfect as is. A little piece of heaven in the dead of winter. And a reminder that sometimes the simplest pleasures are the very best of all.