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Strawberry Pickin' Trip

It seems in the lands around Watsonville, there are strawberries fields (going on) forever. I ended up stopping at one that had reasonably visible perimeters, and thought I'd do a little berry pickin'. Since Tubby seems to have this unexplained disdain for fruits and vegetables, I left him at home. (I find I have more fun that way, too; go figure.)

Picking strawberries at the strawberry patch Picking strawberries at the strawberry patch Tip-toe through the strawberry field
The field I we were to pick from wasn't super-duper huge, but at 10 inches tall, it was just fine for me. The objective, I was told, is to choose those berries that are reddest, even if not the biggest. Not tulips, but some tip-toeing (or tip-web-toeing) was required to not make berries go, "squisssshh!"
Strawberry with a bite missing Weighing and paying for my berries Weighing and paying for my berries
Yes, I know that is clearly a bite missing, and no, I didn't do it. Honestly, without washing it first? You buy the strawberries by the pound. I helped tare the scale, and it's right on: it said I'm 10 ounces. What the devil? After contacting my Medical Services, it seems I am allergic to strawberries. Dang!

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