strawberry failure

I love strawberries. I love the pinkish red vibrancy of color, their 'love-ly' heart shape, and the cute little spiky crop of green hair atop each one. I even love the seeds as I tongue them out of my juicy strawberry washed teeth. In the spring, I pick the first available ones up at the market and don't stop eating until the last of the freezer jam is used up!
One spring morning I was typing at my transcription desk in the physical therapy office when my lips started to tingle for no apparent reason. In a matter of moments I felt them swell until I could barely talk. Not only did my lips swell, but my feet and hands did too. I removed my wedding ring just before it became a turniquet of it's own accord! I had to shed the shoes too! "Bhat's habbebing to be? Call the doctor!" My fellow secretary phoned and I padded, shoeless, to the building next door to try to discover the reason my body was hot, swollen and feeling like I'd combust at any moment! The doc grilled me about any previous allergies, any changes in laundry soap, diet, or environment at home. Nothing rang a bell until he mentioned eating strawberries. "Dot any bore than ebery sbreeg!" He injected me with an anti-inflammatant and then sent me home with a prescription for more to be taken orally. Later that day my legs and abdomen became covered with rashy hives, I was feverish and generally a mess! Besides all that, I couldn't stop feeling heartsick that my favorite summer treat could be causing all this! Then it dawned on me that the previous week for Secretary's Day we were all honored by our boss with a basket of smell-good Plumeria flavored body wash, after bath splash, and luxurious lotion which I'd gratefully used very liberally. Aha! That's it! Back to my boring Dial soap and two weeks later I was finally feeling normal again. "Whew!" Strawberries were still on my list!
I started to grow strawberries not long ago in our garden. We'd had pretty good luck years before in grow boxes in our other home. We beefed up the garden with good soil, planted the giant variety in neat happy rows. My friend had told me to pluck off the first year's blossoms to give the plants a good head start. I did so and patiently waited for the harvest the second year. Layne fixed the sprinkler head to reach the strawberries daily and I was diligent with weekly Miracle Gro treatments. The plants reached their dark green leaves sprinkled with perky white blossoms skyward and I dreamed of an amazing yield. Wrong! Come spring some of the plants did produce respectable strawberries but most came out puny and sour.
This year, I chose a different source for my gardening info and learned that foilage loves frequent water and fertilizer. No wonder the beautiful display. But to see the fruits of our labors we have to water deeply, fertilize only at the very beginning of the spring, let the first year plants do their thing because they produce the best berries and get rid of the oldest plants each year.
I decided berries and people are pretty similar. They need only a little push (fertilizer) from the experts (teachers and parents), a LOT of deep water (caring and love) and a chance to grow (don't pinch them off and discourage them in their youth). They definitely require patience and pruning and they grow better if you share them each year. When they're old, you have to let them go!
I'm slow to learn but NEXT year I'll make you a strawberrry pie!