My early morning meditations in the garden are going swimmingly. This morning I noticed that a few of the Desert King figs were drooping in that very sensual way that they droop when they're heavy and ripe. These plopped into my palm just as I reached for each of them. Thump. Thump. Thump. They make a gentle smacking sound on my palm that sounds like the pat-pat-pat I used to give E on her bottom when she was a babe.
The Desert Kings are funny because they're still green when ripe. You have to look carefully to notice how they're hanging there. Another day in the hot sun, and these would have fallen to the ground on their own.
I ate all of these by myself because I am the only one who likes figs here. E thinks they're too weird. D thinks they're too ummm... sensual, I guess.
Also sweet today: our wonderful neighbors brought over a berry pie to thank me for inviting their granddaughter over to play two late afternoons and a dinner time this week. She's just a year or so older than E, very sweet, and they play nicely together so it was great for me all around. But a berry pie?!? Yes, please!
What a delightful plate of figs and lovely blog. I read "How Can I Help" years ago and was moved to tears by the chapter in which the nurse holds the dying infant.
Posted by: Slick | August 04, 2009 at 09:59 PM
oh I am so jealous of your figs.....
Posted by: thesandwichlife | August 05, 2009 at 06:27 AM
What you said about D and the figs reminded me of what the lady at Duyck's said about figs when asked how they tell if they're ripe... 'Booby soft' is what she said, hee hee...
Posted by: Stephanie | August 06, 2009 at 11:27 AM
I could ram figs up my nose and just sniff them all day. They smell delicious
Posted by: flutter | August 07, 2009 at 11:08 PM