Strawberry Fields Forever

For my birthday yesterday Matt took me out to Pappy's Strawberry field in Oviedo.

First there was a bit of driving. When we finally found Pappy's Strawberry field, Matt opened the car door and *BLAM*! I thought a gun had gone off. After exchanging quizzical looks I opened my door and *BLAM*! What kind of place was this? *BLAM*! I wanted strawberries but it certainly wasn't worth getting shot over. Matt said the sound was more like a pressure gun then a shot gun, maybe it was a pile driver past the field somewhere. *BLAM*BLAM* We walked up to greet Pappy and get a container for our future berry collection. *BLAM* The shots were too irregular to be a pile driver. Pappy tells us which parts of the field have berries and we're off to hunt for our little red jewels.


Beyond a small family in the back of the field and a random dude over yonder, we had the field to ourselves *BLAM*. No one in the field flinches. Are we the only ones hearing this craziness? We dig into the plants and begin the careful process of choosing our fruit. *BLAM*BLAM* And Matt figures it out, pointing to the edge of the field he shows me what looks like a potato gun attached to a propane tank. *BLAM* There are two of them set to go off at irregular intervals and I realize it must be to keep critters from eating all the deliciousness scattered through the field.


In a world where we've left the source and production of our food to conglomerate companies, it's refreshing to pick something fresh. And at $2/lb. Pappy packs a pretty SWEET deal.