That is where I came in. After a little inquisition, it was obvious we were not talking about a couple of cup fulls but enough for me to haul in my pick up----that would be the bike pick up. It turns out our patch in the front yard, while it did not go belly up, left me underwhelmed. I don't know if it was just strawberry sloth or nutritional inadequacy. That big beautiful maple that provides shade is no boon to the patch. Then there is the issue of vermin in the form of chipmunks.
I did not pursue them (striped yard rats) this year because, initially, they did not seem real numerous but once the bushes got larger and more secretive the little bastards can skirt in and out with impunity. They may have been an issue I failed to see. Those half eaten berries laying about the lawn is usually a good indication.
Even now that the berries are gone the 30-06 might have to come out. Seeing the patch is in the front of the house right here in town I may have to go with the clandestine trap line, the one well disguised to prevent Merilyn from see it. She loves 'em because they are so cute but 850 of the scoundrels is too many for me.
Anyway, I fired up the bike unit and did the three measly miles to the Nina and Rex patch and found the answer to all my berry questions. There unconsumed, was teaming masses of the red jewels. I didn't even have to pick all of them as Nina apparently loves to pick---or maybe she witnessed my many joint maladies and did a pity picking. Interestingly, and historically important, I never threw one berry at my fellow picker---a first. After maybe ten pounds, the pickup was loaded and I motored back to the kitchen where Ann cleaned the suckers and I cooked up a winter store of jam. This is America.
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