Las Fresas!

No other fruit reminds me of my childhood like strawberries. They also remind me of my Grandpa Elmer Berger. He's the only grandpa I ever knew; my grandma married him after being widowed for several years. I don't remember the exact year Grandpa Berger passed away, but I can tell you exactly what I was wearing at his funeral. Strange how a child's mind works, isn't it? As I remember it, Grandma and Grandpa Berger had quite a large garden. My family lived about 15 miles from them and I could always count on Grandpa B bringing me strawberries when they were in season. They are, hands down, my favorite fruit. I don't recall how those childhood strawberries tasted, but I do remember how special I felt about being singled out. Today, I harvested the first strawberries of the season from my garden and thought about Grandpa Berger as I ate them.

Fuchsia thief

Has anyone ever had birds eat the buds off a fuchsia plant? I planted a basket full of fuchsia plants and someone has come along and chewed open the buds, rendering them un-bloomable. I've done extensive internet searching without any real answers. I don't know who to blame for the thievery. Although, I now know how to spell fuchsia correctly every time. It's always been a tricky word for me. I wish I could reason with the birds. "I provide seed, suet, and a bath. Will you leave my flowers alone? Thank you. Except you hummingbirds. You're free to sip nectar at your leisure." Where's Dr. Doolittle when I need him?

Garden Picture