Strawberries have been farmed on Bainbridge Island for generations and they have become an island symbol. This year – to my daughters’ dismay – I picked off most of the flowers on our plants so that the first-year transfers would put their energy into growth instead of fruit. But the girls have enjoyed a few berries from buds that escaped my eye. One day last week they each were able to find a ripe one to pick. It was an exercise in self-control to wait to eat the strawberry until it could be washed in the kitchen. By the time one-year-old Elisabeth toddled into our house, her face and fingers were red, her joy evident.
