Yesterday, for the first time, I picked peaches from the tree in my garden. (Take that, you selfish birds.)
Ate three tonight. Verdict: juicy and perfect.
I cleverly avoided all the work of buying, planting, and nurturing the tree through the first several years of its life. The previous resident of my house took care of that part. Probably for the best, given my black thumb.
Thanks, Alice Ann.
Last week I was inundated with an extraordinary number of nectarines from a previously unidentified tree in my yard. They’re fantastic, but I can’t take credit as I’ve ignored the tree for six years. I’m thankful trees know what to do in the event of total neglect because, I have to tell you, nectarines are frakkin’ delicious.
(This is an aside, but my verification code is “CTHULU”. What kind of place are you running here?)
I also have a tree that is growing little pear-shaped protrusions. I figure either it’s a pear tree, and the growths are pears, or it’s not a pear tree, and the growths are tumors. Delicious, delicious tumors.
Ia, Ia, Ftaghn Cthulu!
Mmmm, tumors. *drool*