Once upon a time there was a tree bursting full of astringent persimmons. (Meaning they are horribly puckery and basically inedible until very ripe at which point they become gooey sweet, orange flavored and fig textured). So yesterday with Gordon’s help, I picked what I could, cleaned up the mess on the ground, then lay down a tarp to catch some freshly fallen fruit. …Of course about seven landed on the tarp and about seventy elsewhere.
There was also a cute little caterpillar that Silas and I named Simmy who was out collecting fallen fruit.
More often than periodically, we are blessed with the rank scent of shit around our abode. At first we were puzzled by its origin, thinking that some nearby field had been freshly enriched by manure. (Wishful thinking.) Then on my way home from work one day I discovered a sign with a cute little cartoon turkey on it right down the road. And a long barn on the property with cute little turkey head silhouettes showing through a screen. Crap. That’s the source of the stench. Not temporary.
Now that the persimmons are ripening and the renters moved out, I’ve been spending more time at the other edge of the property. And then I realized that my perception was a bit off. The stinking turkeys aren’t down the road at all, but right across the street. Great. Gobble gobble. Maybe this thanksgiving will offer something to be truly thankful for.
Anyway, I got some ripe little fruit, pulverized it, and am storing it for later. Moved the tarp and will visit the turkeys again tomorrow.
Oh yeah, and here’s the rental that will probably be ours one day soon. For Rent: Cute Little House in the Woods (hope that you’re nose blind). Actually the stink isn’t bad in the woods…but there may be ghosts and fairies and angry deer and shit.