Hollis Baker’s Blog

This time of the year can get a little trying for some of us. I remember a few years ago when Alice and I were newly weds we moved into a little house up on the side of Mount Franklin in El Paso. What a lovely house to live in. The view eastward across the dessert floor is Ysleta, the oldest town in Texas. Ysleta was established by the Church in 1680 in Mexico. The river in meandering around caused Ysleta to become a part of the United States in the 1830’s. As the sun crept across the scrub mesquite the village came to life in full color as we sipped our breakfast coffee. Toward the west lay the sleeping giant Mount Franklin. We felt like puppies nestled at natures breast embraced by that great mountain, as it changed colors and moods as the sun raced across the sky.
Out back I found what was left of a garden, abandoned long ago by the previous tenants. The only color showing this early spring morning were a few strawberry plants. My heart did a quick beat, for strawberries were a plant I always wanted to grow, but never before had the sandy soil to try. If El Paso is nothing else it is sandy. I quickly transplanted the strawberries into a new bed of rich soil. A trip into the wide expanse of desert furnished ancient compost to nourish my new found plants. And they flourished. Each evening, home from work, I hurried out to inspect the plants progress. New leaves quickly came to collect the warm rays of the spring sun. I hardly kissed my bride before inspecting my strawberries each day. No blossoms. No green fruit. The ritual of homecoming, plant inspection, disappointment became a drag. I began to ignore the garden, in secret hoping this flouting of not caring would spur them on to victory. This charade of not caring turned quickly into forgetfulness. They were on their own.
Then came April. I hurried home from a long day to be met at the front door by my excited bride with great news. ” Come quickly and see your garden,”she said. I hurried out back to the strawberry patch to find around each plant an abundance of bright red strawberries just ready for picking. Wow, my careful plan of ignoring the prima donna’s must have worked after all. I reached down and picked the best one as a reward for my bride. I noted that it came loose from the plant easily. As I handed it to Alice I noted a mischievous gleam in her eye. I picked another plump red orb and it also came off the plant easily. Something was amiss. All the fruit was loose of the plants. All of the beautiful cardinal red strawberries were just lying loosely beneath the green leaves. With a sudden rush I realized someone had placed the strawberries there. I had been taken. I looked up into the face of my bride to see a great smile of glee. “April fools”, she shouted.
Dinner was delicious that night. Strawberry short cake for dessert tasted great served with a big dollop of laughter. However, each April the first I still get a little cagey.