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Strawberry Fields Forever
Just down the road from our home in Germany sat a strawberry farm. Anyone could come and pick to their heart’s delight. We just paid for each container we filled.
German strawberries taste different from the American version you pick up in the grocery store. They seem more delicate and not as tangy. Heavenly. I’m guessing we probably ate another bucket as we picked.
An afternoon in the countryside inspires an intense desire to hum a Beatles melody……..
Hey there! I'm Della - or Della Jane if you were raised in East Texas. Welcome to my perfectly imperfect world of middle age. I spend my days navigating a life in the middle of grown and 'nearly grown' offspring, aging parents, and crazy dogs. A lot of days I feel squeezed between them all. Did I mention that I'm in the middle of a roller coaster ride called menopause? All the while I'm hanging on to Jesus, in awe of His faithfulness. Life is messy, my friend. But there is always joy to be found, we just might have to dig a little to find it. I'm so glad you're here.