It takes all summer to squeeze a tomato out of bush here in Oregon. I’m hoping for an Indian summer, but without it…so long mater crop.
Picking blackberries growing in matted, skyscraping mounds along most roads in Oregon is a freebie. So are the worms. I’ll remember the scratches, bee stings, and thank the Lord snakes don’t hang in the bushes like they do in Oklahoma. Ta Ta. Cheerio. Pip Pip.
A warm summer glow warms my cockles and there’s comfort when the On-Your-Honor flower stand appears on the road. I’m sure a few jars and bouquets walk away with unscrupulous losers who step up from dandelion-picking to take a five-finger discount….but each morn, new flowers appear, trusting in mankind. It’s been wonderful. I’ll laugh about our times together forever…well…at least until next summer.
Second-Chance strawberries!!! This agricultural phenom occurs when Oregon weather gets so screwed up, plants think it’s spring again and birth another round of fruit. Alas…most of the blooms will drown, mold, or rot in the upcoming weeks, but thanks for the last ditch effort. We had a fun run while it lasted.
Good-bye Moles. Rain, Cold, nor the tilt of the earth affect you, but Super-Trapper vowed to come after you like a spider monkey on a louse. Adios to the 15 piles of dirt in my lawn. All I can say to you digging vermin is: Keep your head down.
Scout left for college.
Take care. I wish you wonders. Be happy.