No one I think is in my tree, I mean it must be high or low. That is you can’t you know tune in but it’s all right. That is I think it’s not too bad. Let me take you down, ’cause I’m going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields forever. Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It’s getting hard to be someone but it all works out. It doesn’t matter much to me. Strawberry Fields forever. — The Beatles

On Saturday afternoon, the twins were treated to a new and exciting adventure — picking their own strawberries at Froberg Farms in Alvin, Texas. It was about an hour drive out there, but so worth it. There were acres and acres of strawberry rows, and they gave us buckets to pick our own strawberries. The twins did great understanding to only pick the red berries and not the green ones. Kate took a fall in some mud, but amazingly she didn’t freak out about it. Once we had picked a few buckets worth of strawberries, we paid for them ($1.80/pound…I think), and then checked out their farmers’ market. Froberg had several vegetable farms in the area, and brings over their goodies for sale at the the strawberry farm. Afterwards, we ate BBQ sandwiches and sausage-on-a-stick while sitting under huge oak trees. The weather was perfect, and it was a fantastic adventure.




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