First and foremost, I do not consider myself a blogger. I do consider myself a vacant parking spot waiting on a tractor or a team of horses. Preferably a team of horses.
there is a tart cherry tree on my street. the guy who rents the house with the tree has a broken face from a cycling accident. i want his cherries but i feel bad bothering him to ask. i think i might just take them. no need to make him talk, eh.
I picked cherries from my mom's neighbor tree. Almost fell off the latter 3 times, but the fresh cherry pie was worth all that sweat. I can't wait for the peaches, pears, and apples.
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there is a tart cherry tree on my street. the guy who rents the house with the tree has a broken face from a cycling accident. i want his cherries but i feel bad bothering him to ask. i think i might just take them. no need to make him talk, eh.
I picked cherries from my mom's neighbor tree. Almost fell off the latter 3 times, but the fresh cherry pie was worth all that sweat. I can't wait for the peaches, pears, and apples.
What a fruit crop this year, huh?
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