strawberries for dessert.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about strawberries, canceled flights, and seizing moments. Let me explain.

I'll never forget the night last month I sent my mom a text to let her know I had never made it back to Durango at the end of my almost two week trip in Montana. The plane home had mechanical issues so instead of being curled up in my bed with my cuddly dog, I was stuck in Billings with my best friend, her boyfriend, aunt, and hilarious (but very forgetful) grandmother. My mom replied, very confused, with a text that said "So...you're not upset?" This tickled me because in contrast to what could of been a shitty day I actually ended up having the most delightful evening. It's partly due to my new outlook on life this year, and partly because Montana has a happy-go-lucky effect on me. I find that in Montana it's kind of impossible to be in a bad mood. It's especially impossible when burgers are on the grill, the sky is promising a warm spring rain, wine is in hand, and for desert there are Strawberries. But not just any strawberries. THESE strawberries...

It was on this night last month that I discovered the delicious simplicity of strawberries dipped in Mexican sour cream then sprinkled with dark brown sugar. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Actually I've been thinking about it every. day. since. I've also been thinking about how the cloudy diffused light looked that evening through my camera, and how my cheeks hurt from laughing so much, and so hard. I keep thinking about Claire's grandma asking us to turn the volume on the T.V. up so many times while watching "The Voice" that I thought the glass picture frames were going to shatter. Or how I played along with her every five minutes when she (grandma) forgot who I was and introduced herself again, and again, and again.... Or the way the thunder rumbled as we drank wine, chopped veggies, fixed screen doors, and played crossword puzzles. How much of a great, memorable meal has to even do with the food? Someone asked me recently about the best meal I'd ever had. I'm still not sure but, that night, with it's burgers, frozen french fries, salad, and strawberries, may just be the best meal I've had in a while. Clearly the best meals aren't always what you eat, but who you eat them with. Something tells me I will forever be thankful for that canceled flight home.