I finally remembered to take my camera with me on our foray down to the pond last evening. I was dismayed to find that one of my two peaches had fallen off the tree.
After retrieving it (and brushing the ants off on the grass), I decided that nature had determined that they were ripe, so I picked the remaining peach too.
Then, I was shocked to see that I DO have a few apples on the too-aggressively pruned tree:
And, because I promised photos of the prolific pears, here they are:
I had one of the peaches for breakfast this morning, and it was delicious! And, just because no joy comes without a little pain and suffering on the side for balance, I discovered that something bit me in the night. Yes, I used insect repellent when I went for a walk, but this happened while I was sleeping. Do I have to wear bug juice to bed now too?
For your sympathy, I present "The Claw:"
Pillsbury Dough-Boy Hand. Hamburger Helper Oven Mitt. It itches like the Dickens (now there's an interesting expression, where did that come from?), and is ballooning ever larger as I type. So I also had 2 Benadryl with my peach. I should be tottling back to bed for my diphenhydramine nap any minute now...
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