“Oh, we’re real gardeners now!” I said, popping off the ONLY strawberry that—at one inch long or less—was actually ripe enough to give to my pressure. Whatever. We shared it, and it was delicious. Far sweeter than anything you can get at a grocery store.
And it came out of our dirt.
Pretty great stuff.
Although I’m thinking that if I actually want to make my vision of a whole BOWL of strawberries on the back porch a reality I may need to plant more than 3 rows. Like maybe 10 rows. Plans for next year, I guess.