Well today, I decided that my post will be an end to the cherry tree chronicles. After having picked about 65 gallons of cherries, (not counting the three or four gallons I ate to, ahem, test to make sure that what I was picking was ripe), I called it good. There are probably six gallons still in the trees but they are either unreachable or almost unreachable.
|The Athlete and The Princess in the cherry tree.|
|That's the 6-foot ladder on the left.|
I proceeded to climb up on to the top (not a step) and stretch out as far as I could. I had picked just enough to fill her purse when the ladder decided to drop out from under me. Fortunately, with nary a cherry lost, I was able to grab a limb with my right arm and dangle on it until I could walk myself down. I calmly told The Princess, "The ladder fell, didn’t it? Can you come get this purse?" I then jumped off the opposite side of the tree. Another successful season! No major injuries and only sore fingers and limb scratches. Yes!!!
Now for the aftermath, my yard looks like it is the mythical place where cherries go to die. Oh wait, that refers to elephants doesn’t it? No, elephants don’t come to my yard to die. That would be a mess. Literally! They would probably all have to poop, which would require a huge pooper scooper. Neighbors would frown! Flies would be everywhere! The government would be after me because of all the ivory bans and so on! It would just be silly! So instead, I have little cherry skeletons and cherry pits lying everywhere. It is messy, but not elephant graveyard messy.
|Not like this.|
|The Monster (just trust me)|
Have a cherry of a weekend!
From the Hillbilly’s Corner!
I tweeted about my 61-year-old Hillbilly standing on the "not a step" of a 10-foot ladder which caused a friend to ask her husband of the same age, "Do you ever stand on the 'not a step'?" His answer? "Every day." We are in agreement that men all think they're 16 and invincible.
How about your man? Is he 16 and invincible? Men, are you that way? Why, why why??