Fruits of our labour

Sunday will be known as the Day of the Strawberry for all the youngsters in our neck of the woods. About 30 kids, a gaggle of mums and two dads (one was me) joined the annual neighbourhood pilgrimage to the local pick-your-own strawberry farm on the other side of the lake. After a 30-minute trek over the bridge, and an equally long time for toilet breaks, we were set loose on the rows of strawberries. Japanese pick-your-own differs from the English equivalent in one vital way - in Japan you have to eat what you pick there and then - they gave everyone a little plastic tray with condensed milk on one side (for dipping) and space on the other for the inedible green tips. You'd be surprised how many strawberries you can consume in 30 minutes. Frankly, if I never see another strawberry for the rest of the summer, I'll be happy.