Shallow Pockets Brimming with Beatles Lyrics

Strawberry Fields Forever...

Happy Mother's Day to all of the hardworking, under-appreciated moms out there.  On behalf of my fellow sometimes selfish and generally under-vocal generation of kiddies, please know how grateful we all are to have you in our lives.

Unfortunately, since I work in the service industry I didn't get to spend the actual day with my mama.  Sidenote: Mother's Day is the bane of a server's existence... so please, tip well people.  Instead my family and I celebrated the day before and we woke up bright and early to head to a local Strawberry Farm- Washington Fields.

 

 It was a perfect picking day. The sun hid behind the clouds and the humidity, surprisingly, was to a minimum.  The skies opened up only when we were leaving with our two-bucket loot!

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once our fingers were stained red from picking we all went to the only place in Loganville open for brunch- the international house of pancakes, IHOP.  Every time I go I salivate over the pictures in the over-large menu only to be completely sickened with myself after eating the rubbery eggs and too sweet compotes.  They do know a thing or two about buttermilk though... I'll give them that.

Once we got home mama set to work separating the scrawburries into mushy/smoothie, perfect/individual, and small-but-ripe/jam categories.  Then we set to work in good ole southern fashion and made... JAM!  Well, I guess technically they should be classified as preserves since we kept bits of the pulp in there but nonetheless we made our own spreadable, canned sweetness!

We're still quite impressed with our homemaker abilities.  So impressed that we've been continuously rewarding ourselves with a fresh strawberry daiquiri... or three.