There are lots of things I’ve come to love about living in a small town, but today I think I found my favourite so far:
A berry drive-thru.
Like most parents of small children, I spend a good chunk of my pay cheque on berries. Strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, raspberries—you name it.
My 4-year-old insists we stock up every week, only for them to either be eaten in a single day or sit in the fridge long enough to grow little white fuzzies. There is no in-between.
While I don’t remember going strawberry picking as a child, I’ve been told I did a few times. It would have been rare, though, because there weren’t many farms near the city where I grew up. Since moving to a smaller community, strawberry picking has become an annual tradition for my son and me. Every June, we head out to the fields in search of bright red, juicy strawberries. And by “we,” I mean I do most of the picking while my son samples enough berries to ensure we’re getting our money’s worth.
Lately, he’s been asking for strawberries and, honestly, I’ve been avoiding them because of the recent viral claims about Driscoll’s berries. Last night, I promised him I’d stop by the berry farm near my office and pick some up during my lunch break. Had I checked the weather before making this promise, I would’ve noticed the forecast was calling for rain.
As I climbed into my car at lunchtime, the sky darkened and raindrops started to fall. I immediately began dreading the walk from my vehicle to the entrance. I can’t stand the feeling of damp clothes sticking to my skin, and I already knew the greenhouse would be humid.
The things we do for our children.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted a sign that read: BERRY DRIVE-THRU, with a giant red arrow pointing the way. I followed a trail of strawberry-painted traffic cones that led me to a modified shipping container where cheerful employees were waiting to take orders. I rolled down my window and ordered two quarts of strawberries for just under $12.
A few moments later, the cashier placed them directly into my passenger seat. I didn’t have to leave my vehicle. I didn’t get wet. And I had fresh, local strawberries for the drive back to work.
As she handed me my berries, I couldn’t help myself. “Well, that’s berry convenient,” I said. She politely laughed, and I immediately wondered how many times a day she hears that exact joke.
The berries were so juicy that I may or may not have eaten several before I even made it back to the office.
I’ll still take my son strawberry picking this month because some experiences are worth the effort.And fresh strawberries are one of them.
But discovering a berry drive-thru on a rainy day? Let’s just say small-town living has proven to be very… berry convenient.
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