I have a cherry tree. Mind you it’s not just any ol’ cherry tree. No. It is a nearly dead, bought on clearance, chocolate Labrador pup dug it up and chewed it twice, I replanted it and babied it, oh my f-ing stars what in the world will I ever do with all those cherries, 13-year-old cherry tree. Note. The sky was not blue yesterday.
You see, right in the middle of a “wow, it almost feels like summer” string of weather days, it decided to rain. And rain, followed by more warm weather, means moldy cherries. A couple of years ago I learned about moldy cherries the hard way. The birds won’t even eat moldy cherries. Hence the urgency. It took over three hours to pick the cherries that could be reached within a 12ft ladder vicinity in the rain.
In other news the differed BBQ was a success. There was tons of yummy food, gallon bags of cherries as party favors and wine. Lots of wine.
But this morning brings more rain, exhaustion, dehydration from the wine, and ice chests in the garage full of cherries. Oh my f-ing stars am I sick of cherries already. Today I will be processing cherries for pies and such, see if there is a recipe that involves canning and cherries and I will give away even more.
I don’t read or speak German, but I found the contraption in the photo below at a swap meet a few weeks ago. A cherry pitter. And it’s not a handheld one. Score.
Buckaroo has finals this week so he gets out early from school. He will be taking a turn with the cherry pitting. And I am going to fit in a great workout nap and run in somewhere. And drink coconut water. Lots of coconut water. Tomorrow I will be as good as new and the cherries will hopefully have disappeared be all processed and spoken for.
Until next time, always be true to yourself and think like a boss!