Harvest. A great time of year (and a great album).
Took about 10 dozen apples off our dwarf Haralson tree this year. A safe bet would place the same amount going to the local birds, squirrels and rabbits along the way. We should end up making at least a dozen apple pies, quarts of apple sauce and even some apple butter.
Fun fact for the day: fruit growing on or into the public domain is free to anyone. Check out Fallen Fruit for more on the concept if you feel the urge.
I wonder if in the course of a lifetime you actually reach a balance between the amount of pocket money you find and the quantity that you loose. I wouldn’t be surprised if I lost a five, a few ones and a few quarters over the last year, and that’s why I was due to find this ten waiting on the ground for me.
On the other hand, considering where I found this, maybe money really does grow on trees…
Red. Blue. Yellow. The primary colors ready for action.
Blocks. Legos. Lincoln Logs.
Little icons of pure form are so pleasing.
Plus, they photograph really well.
One thing little children and animals have in common is that they can’t actually read very well. I don’t recall ever seeing a bird pecking away at a good novel, or a red squirrel having a cup of coffee over the New York Times.
The Guthrie Theater
Bender The Robot
Say no more.
In his book “Between A Rock And A Hard Place”, Aaron Ralston recounts the mind bending saga of his canyon climbing misadventure and reminds us of the venerable saying:
“Gravity is happening now”.
It’s a strange but oddly comforting way to think about things, that everything you pass is just waiting to fall. Gravity is always there, always working, just biding time while friction or balance or something else changes.
I hate bees.
I know I shouldn’t. They run around pollinating flowers. They make apples grow on my apple tree. They make the honey that I use in my kitchen. I’m trying hard to learn to like them. Really.
Fun fact: bees need to fly about 150,000 miles to produce one pound of bee’s wax.
Such busy bees, so where do they find the time to sting me?