Possumblog

Let's see...

I managed to get all the super-dee-dooper emergency stuff done, and now am just left with the normal task of rolling this large boulder up the hill. Funny, but every time I do that, it rolls back down again. But hey, at least I don't have it as bad as that Prometheus guy. Real bummer, you know?

Anyway, I am left with not enough time to go over the entire weekend wrapup as I had intended, so I figure I'll just show the Boy Farmer for now, and maybe pick up the rest tomorrow.

The pear crop this year was quite abundant. I'm not sure when you're actually supposed to pick them, but they had gotten to the size of softballs, so I figured it wouldn't hurt anything to go get them.

I rousted Boy and told him to come help me, and after a minute or two he came charging out of the house, full of Boy Energy.

And his mother's white beach sandals.

::sigh::

"Son, you know those are Mama's shoes, don't you? And that Catherine has been wearing them?"

"Yes, sir, but they were right by the door and I didn't want to have to go get mine."

Hard to argue with that. Especially for a man who's had to put on his wife's bathrobe to go downstairs and get toilet paper out of the utility closet.

ANYway, he got to work right off.

Here he is looking for any windfalls--

and here he is trying not to get poked with pear tree thorns--

Pear trees are weird. Or maybe it's just this one, but it had lots of spikes on it, and then a whole bunch of little hard round berries that I assume are pear babies, but they don't ever grow. Strange fruit.

Here is Boy with an armload of his crop and a big cheesy grin--

After he put those down, I, being very smart and bright and clever, decided to grab a branch and give it a little shake to get the high ones down. They did come down. Hard. On top of my head. Ouch.

ANYway, after it was all said and done, Boy had grown more than EIGHTY pears from his tree. We had some that got eaten by the birds and that fell off in storms, but still, the eighty there on the stone bench are a pretty good haul.

He took some next door to both the young couple on one side and to the retired lady on the other. He wanted to know if he could keep the biggest ones to eat, and I said there wasn't anything wrong with that. (I think he was afraid he'd have to give those away.)

Posted by Terry Oglesby at August 15, 2005 04:22 PM