They are perfectly good pears in spite of the fact that I don’t eat them. My child bride, of course, gobbles them down as she does any fruit within her grasp.
And our pears are organic!
I miss a few things from above the Rio Bravo, food-related things. One is Harry & David. They sell great fruit, especially pears, and their pears are prettier than ours. The other thing I miss is the Collin Street Bakery, especially the fruitcake.
Costco in the capital city sometimes sells fruitcake, and I’ve yet to buy one. Perhaps I should. Most fruitcakes are crap. Perhaps you’ve heard there’s actually only one fruitcake in the world, and it gets passed from one gift recipient to another, eternally.
But the Collin Street fruitcake is excellent. It’s that second fruitcake, the one you can eat.
Most of the fruit trees in our yard were here when we purchased the property. There was also an English sheepdog-watchdog that the previous owner tried to give us, but we did not bite, so to speak. We remain dog-free.
I wish we were peach-free. The pears ain’t bad, however, and, as I said, they are organic!
ON THE ROOF recently to wipe the rods of the solar water heater, I took this video and snapped the photo below.
I’m a sharing sort of fellow.
At about 10 seconds into the video, you can see what I call the Garden Patio down there with the red water tank. It’s where I keep yard gear. And then at about 23 seconds you can see the solar heater at the left, briefly.
In the photo below, the brick surface is the roof of the kitchen. Farther along, the red tile covers the downstairs veranda.
In the upper right corner is the home of our grumpy neighbors, the ones with the horse, pigs, dogs, etc.
It’s fun to go up on the roof because the view is spectacular, not just the neighbors but the mountains.
The only other video I’ve shot from atop the roof was made five years ago. It’s on YouTube, not Vimeo, and presents quite a different perspective. Plus, it’s got Hillbilly music!
The video was shot very early. That’s morning mist.
HERE I SIT on the veranda, just in from the morning walk around the neighborhood plaza, something I do most days to maintain my boyish physique and high humor.
I am an ideal object of envy. No job. No money worries. My health is good. My wife is young and beautiful. The weather is wonderful. Waffles and maple syrup (100%) await.
Birds sing. Burros bray. Horses neigh. Dogs bark. Hogs oink. All within earshot, night and day. And last night till 2 a.m., musicians howled on the plaza, so we slept with earplugs, something that doesn’t warrant envy, alas.
Hereabouts 11 a.m., the sky is blue and white. The temperature is 69. My utility bills are low, and my grass is high, green and damp. My wives are all alive and my daughter too.
I have no dogs, no cats, no outstanding bills, and both of our cars run smoothly though they could use a wash. It’s the rainy season, a constant battle for self-respecting vehicles.
The waffles are ready now, I’m advised. The maple syrup too, the daily second breakfast around the hour of 11.
It’s an enviable position in which to find oneself.