Summer of Strawberries. In the middle (of the rhyme)

Holy cowtown, it be raining strawberries on Uptown.

Our strawberry jar is quite full of little misshapen mini strawberries and I love them all.

I am mildly concurnicus that there are some squirrels around who also love them, but that's fine - I only eat July home-grown strawberries.

Everything my mother said was right (per usual), they are so amazingly easy. Just some water and some sunshine and a few positive growing vibes sent in their direction.

I have not eaten any of them yet, I remember the first batch of last year's strawberries being so gross and sour. Next month I will know if the are more than just a pretty picture, but for now - the summer of strawberry is raging, get on it. 

Summer of Strawberry. Part just after the beginning

Guys. I am here to tell you that I am cuh-rushing this take-care-of-a-strawberry thing despite the fact that it is not quite actually summer.

Look at that luscious green monster. So healthy and well-watered. I am so excited that things seem to be going really well in the growing leaves department.

And look! Everything I have read says that flowers = eventual edible bites.  So I am just going to sit here until these guys expecto-patronum themselves into things I can dip in chocolate.

Sadly, there is a bit of sadness. In a terrible wind/other plant lid/fate accident one of the little guys did not make it. We will miss you little guy. We will especially miss the fact that there is no way to replant anything in your place.

Summer of Strawberry. The beginning.

Last summer was an epic gardening experience but at, like, a third grade level. When it arrived, everything was already actually a plant. Mom did most of the repotting for me.  All I had to do was not kill them for a summer.  Something I just barely managed to do.

This year, Cougar thought it was time to take it up a notch and sent me basically a pile of stringy dirt (which are apparently roots) -

And a fancy jar.

And I was like, "erm."

Luckily, the internet has its uses, which are to tell you how to do things your mom thinks you are capable of (but you are not even close to being able to do).

Here's a solid video, although this woman gets zero dirt on her pretty blue shirt. Zero.  How is that even possible?

I found a new use for the green wellies I can't bear to part with. They're mah gardenen' boots! I cannot manage to go 30 seconds without completely covering myself in organic potting soil.

This whole process of planting teeny tiny strings of nothing was incredibly stressful. And what will make it even worse is I have ages and ages before I know if I did it right or wrong.  Despite my mother's insistence that strawberries are hearty plants and basically weeds - I cannot help but feel an enormous amount of pressure for them to survive.

If you are planting your own strawberry pot, and are wondering what they're supposed to look like when they're all planted - I have no idea.  But Mom said this was "good enough" -

At any rate, it was a gorgeous Spring Sunday, and I am happy I got to spend it in the sunshine. Its the summer of the strawberry!