It’s A Very Berry Time

Beloved went strawberry picking today.  We don’t have strawberries to pick, but a friend has a large patch of strawberries in need of picking.  So Beloved decided to help out and reap some of the gathered berries.

He came home with a bucket full of beautiful red berries and a grin in his face.  I’m not sure which was bigger, the grin or the bucket.  This wasn’t a regular sized bucket either, it was an oversized bucket that he managed to fill to almost overflowing.  Pies, jam, fools and sauces are in the making.

But first comes the washing and then freezing of some of the berries so we can enjoy them all year-long.  Me?  Well someone has to do quality control don’t you know?! 😊  And rest assured, dear friends, I take my role of quality control on taste testing very serious.  It requires sampling berries from different parts of he bucket.  It means sampling berries of different sizes and shade.  It basically means it’s the reason to enjoy the berries just as they are while Beloved cleans the rest!

I know, it’s not a job just anyone is up for.  It takes dedication and the willingness to sample several hauls of berries.  Sometimes you get one or two that aren’t as sweet as the others, but it’s a small price to pay in order to ensure everything is on the up and up. And for those of you who feel for Beloved, don’t.  For every five berries he out in the bucket, he put a few in his mouth.  I know because he told me!

Traveling With Tastebuds

There are a few things that I ask ways do when I’m in a new place.  I scope out where the bookstores are, the coffee shops and local, ethnic food places.  Coffee shops are a must because sometimes you just need to get out of the house and enjoy the scenery while having a lovely cup or two of good coffee.

I may not always buy a book when I go into a bookstore, but I love the magical worlds they hold, and all between two covers.  There is something calming and soothing to me about entering a bookstore.  It’s like coming home no matter where I am in the world.  Seeing the titles of my favourite books, touching them is a bit like visiting with an old friend.

And when in Rome, one should try their food.  When in Sweden, Swedish food is in order.  Homemade, local food gives you the full effect of the place, a dash of the people and their character if you will.  But we are human, you an I my dear  readers, so we tend to shy from things that take us way out of our comfort zone.  For example any food that can look at me, I struggle to even taste.  It’s akin to naming your food, one you name it you can’t eat it.  Label it as a bunny?  Sure. Call it Thumper and it’s a whole other game. 😉

But back to Sweden.  Well not really, it’s been over twelve months since I placed my toes upon the land of the Vikings.  But a friend found a delightful Swedish store/restaurant.  So off we went, because I have an addiction to Sweden’s cinnamon buns and other lovely this. Rye bread?  Oh yes please, with lovely cured salmon! 😊  Let’s just say I was not disappointed with this place from the decor and Swedish coffee to the wonderful staff and the aromas coming out of the bake area.

And while I thoroughly enjoyed myself,  couldn’t help but run through a short list of people in my life (present time and past) who would have enjoyed this place with me.  Those who are still with me, presently involved in my life, well I must figure out a way to bring them to this hidden little gem.  And those in my memories, well I can imagine what they’d say or do in this place.  Either group, it’s like sharing some marvellous secret with them!  And that’s the best part, when you can share something so lovely with those that matter in your life.