Sunday morning at the produce farm

I grew up in a highly agricultural state.  However, mostly I was surrounded by crops destined to become grain or seed or cow feed or other things--designed to be harvested by big machines, nothing that you'd put on your table directly.  Sorghum, alfalfa, corn... Yes, I realize that latter thing can be picked and eaten; you don't have to remind a girl from Nebraska.  But there weren't a lot of U-pick places for corn.  And nowhere near me did anyone grow fruit.

Moving to Michigan I was just amazed by this concept of U-pick farms, that you could go to some farm and pick your own cherries, raspberries, strawberries...  wow.  You'd think I grew up in a concrete-covered metropolis. 

Since my son was small, raspberry picking has been an annual outing.  This year, we finally hit the nearby strawberry farm.   We headed out this morning while my husband was still sleeping, and in short order picked a ton.

We had so much fun.  Now, to find some recipes.  I gave all my canning equipment away after my friend Ruth left town--she was the one who would come over and help me wreck my kitchen while we made pickles and jam.  Without her, I just couldn't get motivated, so I craigslisted the stuff and bid it farewell.

I could probably use some jelly jars about now....