shoulda listened to my Mom

The day after I buy two pounds of michigan cherries to make a cherry lavender pie I discover that my Mom was correct.


When she came down for a visit and we wandered around the newly purchased property-- she pointed to plants that she recognized from her gardening experiences. She said, "Sweetie that's a cherry tree." I, smart mouth brat that I am said, "Nunt uh--It's crab apple; if those are cherries--well then I am tall svelte rock star." We moved on-- exploring and poking and trying to keep stupidawg under control.

Yesterday while I waited for the electrician to hook up the hot tub (It's still a cold tub--the heater died in transport.)-- I cleared brush (hey I'm presidential!!) and I dragged the never ending garbage outta the woods. This sweaty hair tangling in the branches work got me close enough to said fruit bearing tree to realize that I was standing on 20 thousand little mushballs with a slippery marble implanted in them. "Self" I said to myself, "Crabapples do not have pits. Nor do they smell like cherries." I had to admit my mamacita was correct.



Next year we pay attention and harvest our cherries BEFORE they turn into bird food. I'll send Izzy up the tree like the little monkey she is and we shall have nummy cherries. For those of you intrepid readers..yes I tasted one..tangy but highly edible. And waaaay better that the most horrible tasting berry in the world which is still unidentified. Carol and I think it might be a sloe berry and that it won't ripen until after the frost. all I know is when I tasted it every instinct in my brain said "spit!!... spit now!!"