Oh my, I do remember my mom’s homemade black cobbler with hand churned homemade vanilla ice cream. We had wild strawberries along our fence rows but Molly, the Jersey cow, loved them and always ate all she could find so there were never any left. When I was small, I never could figure out why her milk wasn’t pink. In the Hill Country in west Texas there are lots of peach growers. Some let you come and pick your own. Amazed at the number of city folks that stopped who had never seen a real peach tree with fruit. One place also had some cherry trees and one lady asked if they grew any maraschino cherries. One thing about being older is all the stuff we have to share with grandchildren - their life is so different.
Oh my goodness. Did you get strawberry milk from her???:):)