A palmful of strawberry

A palmful of strawberry

Ok.  So when I filled out the “about me” information on Blotanical I said the only fruit I grew came from the old cherry tree in the back yard.  That wasn’t exactly true, though I never dreamed I’d be able to harvest a strawberry.  Notice the singularity of that noun “strawberry.”  By the way, lest your suspense interfere with your ability to construct meaning from the rest of this post, yes, I ate it.  It was sweet and juicy.

Last July I went to Ludema’s.  They had a couple of hanging baskets of strawberries on clearance and I thought they might look nice hanging from one of the dutchman’s pipe supports.  I bought them, hung them and waited.  And I forgot about them until, during a dry spell, I noticed they were wilted and wanting.   I took the baskets down and set them on the ground so they could get watered with everything else that was getting sprinkler therapy.  I never hung them back up.  Any strawberries that even thought about blushing into ripeness were scarfed down by resident rodent raiders.  I suspect rabbits were the culprits, but I wouldn’t rule out a squirrel or two.  Anyway, the baskets stayed on the ground the rest of the summer all winter because, well, I don’t know.  Because I never got around to dumping them before cold weather devoured my gardening motivation.  I picked up one basket in the spring but noticed there were some green shoots coming from the other one, green strawberry plant shoots.  So, I left it where it was.  And the shoots developed into fruit bearing plants!  But even more surprising was the fact that there was a strawberry plant growing from the earth where the other pot sat. Instead of pulling it out like a weed, I decided to let it stay put, drawfed by a lilac.  I was sure the bandit rabbits and/or squirrels would get to the fruit before I did, but it wasn’t hurting anything.  So, the pot and the self planted strawberry soaked up a mild Michigan spring and began bearing fruit.  The first to ripen was the pot, probably because it gets more sun.  And so  I harvested a strawberry!  A ripe juicy red strawberry!

I took my berry bounty into the kitchen and washed it (because my mother always told me to wash fruit and vegetables and this is one of the few commands I actually obey)(go figure), and popped that little treasure into my mouth.  It even tasted like a strawberry!

Am I tempted to now clear a patch for future strawberry indulgences? Nope.  I’m sticking to perennials.  With the hope of a little strawberry on the side.

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