Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Figs and intestinal fortitude

Ralph Waldo Emerson, the great poet and philosopher said, "Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience." Someone must have forgotten to tell my fig tree that.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. To quote a local evangelist in our area, "Not a sermon, just a thought."

It's just that its getting harder and harder to keep up with the seemingly frenetic pace at which the fruit is ripening. Thank goodness Gary and I have neighbors who like fruit!

I've never seen anything quite like it. Gary and I think we've "harvested" close to 150 figs and there are more yet to come. Amazing!

The thing that drives me batty though is that I can't figure out what we've done to generate such an abundant and healthy crop. Was it all the rain this year? Was it something -- anything -- that we did?

I wish I knew. All I know is that it's raining figs in my back yard. It's very exciting and delicious, too. But I have this sinking feeling that I may be setting myself up for a fall. You know what I mean -- that at this time next year I'll be going "Ahhh! Where are all my wonderful figs?!" and remembering this time last year (that would be NOW) fondly.

In the meatime I'm learning what to do with figs other than give them to neighbors - dried figs, fig jam, chicken with figs, fruit salad with figs, peanut butter and fig sandwich...

Score: Domestic Divahood, 9; Unfulfilled on the job, 0

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