Low-Hanging Fruit

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apples bunched on a branch

We have two dwarf apple trees — as well as a pear and a plum — on the perimeter of our property. Despite the ‘dwarf’ label, they can grow fairly tall if they are not pruned back regularly. Right now, they stand at about one-and-a-half stories. This makes picking the fruit off the high branches pretty much impossible, but it makes the low-hanging fruit easily pluck-able.

Particularly for these guys:

deer eating the low-hanging fruit from an apple tree

…who, like all animals, stopped what they were doing as soon as I started taking pictures of them.

Three seconds prior to this snap, however, mama deer had the end of one of the branches in her mouth and was gnawing off the fruit growing there. Notice her mouth is open? It’s full of apple. And she’s a bad-manners chewer.

The good news, I guess, is that — like last year — we are going to have a bumper crop of fruit.

The bad news, though… The high ones are going to be un-pick-able come harvest time (which, by the looks of it, is going to begin in about three weeks) and the low-hanging ones are going to get eaten by the local wildlife.

*laugh*

Oh well. 🙂

We’ve been light on rain but heavy on sun for the past month; I’m happy my edibles are growing.

Now if my sunflowers would just follow suit…

Saturday Night Fever: Perk-o-lated

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Look closely.

You’ll get it.

😉

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Saturday Night Fever: Pajanimals?

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So, some women…

woman reclining on her side in bed wearing animal-themed pajamas

They get dressed for bed and they just look ridiculously sexy, amiright?!

Me, on the other hand…

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Saturday Night Fever: The Cat’s Pajamas

selfie shot of woman wearing cat nightshirt

So I was wearing my cat pajamas — it’s a nightshirt, specifically (from one of my more successful SHEIN shopping adventures) — and my hubby was like, “Me-OW!”

black & white photo of woman's thighs past the hem of a night shirt

And when he found out I was no longer wearing panties (I’d had my Cookie Monster bottoms on earlier in the day; “I want to nom” followed by growly NOMNOM noises was part of his watching-me-dress conversation that morning), he was like, “MrOWr!”

Mrowr, indeed.

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