Over

We're back.

It was great! Nice weather, cold beer, good food. The ocean. The sand. Camping. What more can you ask for?

The Chef couldn't join us, too bad for her. And that's all I've got to say about that.

Saturday morning we went to an absolutely fantastic farmer's market. And I've been to a LOT of farmer's markets. Fresh bagels, fresh coffee, spring peas (oh peas! I'm so happy) lettuce, breads of every variety, pies, cookies, pastries, cheese, mushrooms, beets, spring onions, and my favorite early summer treat of all: STRAWBERRIES.

I've got a couple reasons why I should hate strawberries.

When I was in high school, big momma wanted to teach us the value of money, and the 'joy' of earning the buck on your own. So she drove my bro and I to the local strawberry farm to pick berries all day. Oh how it sucked. Long, hot days for little money. I was put off strawberries for a very long time.

Then there are those gawdawful 'truck berries' that come from California, in all their plastic clamshell glory. They're very pretty, and in the desparation of January, when a soul is jonesing for something fresh and sweet, they trick you into thinking you're getting something good. But when you bite into them, it's a cruel joke. Not the tasty berry of June, but a mealy tasteless trucked in berry who was picked green and allowed to ripen on the truck. So sad.

I digress. The berries we got at the farmer's market were exactly what a strawberry should be. Juicy. Sweet. One bite of joy. We ate them plain, no sugar, no whipped cream, no nothing. Just berry. YUM.

So there you have it. I spent the weekend with my best friend. We drank beer, ate strawberries, played backgammon, swam in the ocean, and laughed a whole lot.

I don't think that I could possibly ask for any more than that.