We’ve got one lemon tree in the back yard of our house.  It only seems to produce lemons in the winter months of the year.  It’s an underachiever, but we still love and water it.  (It reminds me a tad of myself…prickly and sour.  I digress.)

For me, having fresh lemons in the cold season (yes, both definitions of cold) is better than a flu shot.  (Disclaimer:  If you’re nuts enough to think that eating a lemon can replace a flu shot, you may be nuts enough to believe that eating natural and organic food can keep you healthy.)  Lemons not only have vitamin C, they also contain citric acid, calcium, magnesium, bioflavonoids, and limonene, a GERD and heartburn reliever.

Now here’s a refreshing scurvy-fighting strawberry lemonade recipe for those transcontinental ocean voyages!


  • 4 lemons, medium to large size (squeezed to make 1 cup of lemon juice)
  • 1 lemon, sliced
  • 7 strawberries, sliced
  • 2 quarts water plus 2/3 cup water
  • 1/3 cup white sugar
  • 1/3 cup brown sugar

Here Daddy! You Take a Bite!


Place 2/3 cup water and sugar into medium saucepan and heat to boiling.  Cut off the heat.  Stir occasionally until sugar is melted.  You’ve got sugar syrup now.  Let cool to room temperature.

If you hadn’t read the ingredients list, then at this point, you will squeeze 4 lemons to make 1 cup of lemon juice.  If you need 5 lemons to make 1 cup of lemon juice, don’t fret.  The world will be ok with your inability to choose perfect sized lemons.

Slice up the single lemon you’ve got left.  (This is to signal to the dazed, late-night foragers of your fridge that the yellow jug is lemonade, not pee.

Slice up the strawberries.

Find a 3 quart jug and toss the 2 quarts of water into it.  Then add the sliced fruit and your freshly squeezed lemon juice.

Since it probably took you 30 minutes to prepare everything, your sugar syrup mixture has probably cooled down.  Add it to the jug.

Put some ice (and two shots of vodka, if it’s still morning)  into a glass.  Fill glass with MVG’s strawberry lemonade and grab a seat on the front porch before the whole world passes by without you.