Frozen 2013 strawberries, thawed for a half hour or so by the wood stove.
I'm the impatient one, so I tackle the still fairly solid mass first -- spooning out icy berry halves coated in melted syrup. At the halfway point, I hand it off to Kev, who has a much easier time of it.
Soon, he's draining the last of the juice and sighing. "I love our strawberries," he says.
I nod in quick agreement.
This is the product of our second strawberry harvest from the tiered raised bed we built next to the sidewalk that leads to our front door.
Nourished by composted horse manure and protected from squirrels by stinky, sulfur concoctions, three varieties of strawberries have provided us with dozens of quarts of June delights.
And, they're the perfect finish for a frosty February evening dinner of leftovers.