Some Stinkin’ Bastard Ate Half My Cherries!

The fussing I’ve done over these cherries should automatically disallow any thieving. I’m an incredibly obsessive fabulous fusser and the cherries were no exception. Trying to shed the last dregs of their petals? I was there. Twisted around another stem? I was there. One of those stinky green farting priest’s wives (more on these in a future post) sucking out the juice? Me, again.

And now this. The day before yesterday should have been the first day the cherries were ripe. Sometimes when you go the all natural route you lose a bit of the crop – I can accept that.

It’s a bit like taking a bite out of every chocolate to see what’s in the middle and then putting it back in the box. Every single cherry which might be ripe enough is half eaten. No cherries for me.