It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.


Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.


Help ATS via PayPal:
learn more

I used to pick strawberries.

page: 1

log in


posted on May, 4 2015 @ 12:51 AM
Many years ago, I lived in a house right next to a strawberry field. We were a low income family, so picking strawberries in the early summer was an unusual opportunity to earn some money. I was 12 or 13.

I picked the berries, and hated the spiders that sometimes walked over me. Today I feel sympathy for those spiders. Their name is daddy long legs.

There was a girl who lived across the field that also picked strawberries. I can't remember her name. But I remember that she was the first female I ever felt that out of control, it consumes my thoughts and feelings, sort of thing. I made sure to be picking strawberries next to her row of strawberries. She definitely seemed to enjoy my company. But she was a way less effective strawberry picker compared to me, so I had to slow down to not move ahead of her.

I wonder where she is today. I hope her life turned out to be a good life. At the time I thought she was my first love. But only in my mind was she my first love. She was cute and pleasant, and she was there at an important time for me. Later, it might have been something less, but not in those strawberry field back in 1960. Back then, she was the light of my life for a year or two.

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 12:59 AM
a reply to: droid56

Good story. I enjoyed it!

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 01:04 AM
Ah, yeah...young crushes. We've all had them.
I also wonder what ever became of a few.
I ran across one that I hadn't seen in decades.
Man, I'm glad I dodged that bullet.

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 02:21 AM
Memories. Sounds like good times.

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 03:30 AM

originally posted by: droid56
I wonder where she is today.

Probably far from those who call women "females".

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 08:03 AM
a reply to: droid56

ON a scale of 1-10 for an ATS thread, this ranks quite low. But on a scale of 1-10 of how interesting and fun it was to rates off the charts.

Thanks for sharing. And thank God for BTS.

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 09:03 AM
a reply to: droid56

Ah, memories Droid. We used to have a raspberry farm. My step brother and I in our teens would cruise out after school to the farm (we also lived in Suburbia). Upick 'em is still pretty big here in Southeast Michigan. Pumpkins, strawberries, raspberries....

So of the folks I used to see? I always wondered what happened to them...and our farm? 140 year old farmhouse with sink water (well) pump in kitchen and no toilet...just outhouse...its gone now of course.

Giant subdivisions and the land they sit on...used to be our raspberry farm.

posted on May, 4 2015 @ 09:57 AM
We had many strawberry fields on our farm. I grew up picking strawberries and potatoes. I would get five cents a quart for picking berries. My uncles and aunts would get seven cents a quart. The ones grading them would get to keep the ripe berries for canning, they needed a white tip to be right for selling to the wholesaler. I shared in on the sales income of the self pickers field which my father let my sister and I run and keep the profits. The older self picker fields produced smaller sweeter berries and we used to have lots of people come in and pick them. They cost ten cents a quart if you picked them yourself back then. My sister and I would make about three hundred bucks during strawberry season and I would make another fifty bucks picking potatoes and veggies to sell on a route my father had. That was some pretty good money in the sixties.

I never seemed to see any cute girls in the strawberry fields back then, they were all at the beach. When I got older and my dad sold the farm, I started hanging around the beach. My aunt and uncle ran the concession stand and took care of the campers. Lots of girls there.

edit on 4-5-2015 by rickymouse because: (no reason given)

new topics

top topics


log in