this morning, while the coffee whirred,
i, awaiting the blessed beep, sliced a whole carton of strawberries.
week after week i have mourned the premature loss of those last few berries, never able to use them all in time. i let them down when i allow them to shrivel, grow unsightly fuzz, and die an untimely death.
i can hear the debate among vegans and lobbyists working for strawberry rights. the question at hand: “is being eaten a better end than the trash can?” i choose to believe it is so. i choose to believe that a berry enjoyed is a life well lived.
i just love strawberries! on cereal or waffles, in yogurt or oatmeal, with sugar and flour and other such pie-making ingredients. mmmmm. i had to do something to preserve these favored fruits, at least in my own kitchen, where i can control their final moments. perhaps a misshaped, off-brand tupperware would keep them fresh longer than their open-aired carton was able. it seemed my only hope!
as i sliced, i contemplated the decision to use a knife before having coffee, probably not a great idea. i focused on each cut, separating abby skin from strawberry skin and hummed a little “strawberry fields forever.” i realized something else had changed in my strawberry routine.
where i used to cut chunks – the top first, then as many halves as the size would allow – i was now slicing slivers. from right to left, each slice revealing the spine of the berry, each motion pushing the previous piece off the knife and into its new plastic home.
i hope my berries are happy there, that they prosper and last the week. that with each pop of the plasticware, i take note of what else is new, different, changing in my fridge and my life. a day enjoyed – really soaked in the deliciousness of every bite – is a day well lived.