indulgences

i can't even describe it. i tried. but all i could think of was every cliche, every metaphor you've heard a million times.

"it" being the taste of strawberries. three pints of them. three pints of miniature balls of taste explosions. andrea, jeff and i spent one hour saturday crouched in a field in the bright noon-time sun, on a treasure hunt for strawberries. plucking them from the plants, filling carton after carton, and, of course, gulping them down from time to time. at the end of the hour, i had strawberry-juice stained fingers, knees and drip marks on my toes. i'm sure my grin was studded with strawberry seeds. but i didn't care.

that was one of several highlights of a relaxing weekend at andrea's cottage in the Township of Blue Mountains, along Georgian Bay. we left saturday. it was a long winding journey to the cottage, but we made it there by 6 p.m., our stomachs empty and ready for the bacon-wrapped steaks. it was the first of four meals focusing on meat. just my kind of people. me, being a meat-lover and all.

after we gorged ourself on meat and salad and garlic bread, we spent the evening reading the newspaper, playing poker, and competing at scrabble while sipping on caesars. then we slept... and slept. the next morning we awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs drifting down the stairs. we ate, we read, we picked strawberries, we ate strawberries, we went home, we ate lunch, we played cards, we read. we waited til the suns rays faded at 3 p.m., then we swam. then back to the cottage for supper.

after we'd satiated ourselves on sausages, strawberries, sun and swimming, we drove off, the sun setting in a purple haze behind us... fireworks exploding in the distance in front of us.