Believe me when I tell you I’m not the only one who doesn’t like the taste of real strawberries.  I’ve met enough people, now, who are willing to endure the public scorn of saying ‘No, thanks.’ when a bowl of fresh picked strawberries is placed in front of them.  I’m not willing to go as far as this cilantro website, though.  Actually, I quite like all the other asthetics of the strawberry.  Their deep red color and their sweet aroma.  They make spring time here in Santa Maria one of my favorite times of the year.  It’s around this time we start to see the flatbed trucks piled high and wide with flats of strawberries.  They kind of remind me of that fat guy you might see at Hometown Buffet who forgot to loosen his belt.  These strawberries are bustin’ at the seems to get out, and sometimes, when the trucks turn a corner or switch lanes too fast, they actually do bust out and spill all over the streets.  Within minutes we have smashed strawberries everywhere.  Last night I had the priviledge of riding my bike through a puddle of strawberry jam…so fun!  It reminds me of something out of Willy Wonka or, maybe, what some child dreams heaven would be like.  I thank God for Santa Maria and its strawberry fields that go on forever.