Sunday, June 10, 2007

the juiciest fruit: some hooking required

The cherry tree has worked overtime this year. In the last two decades, we have been able to gather fruit only a handful of times. That is mostly because the tree doubles as a meeting space for the local branch of the squawky bird club, whose members congregate every year at cherry time for a convention of gorging themselves and catching up on gossip. They often clean out the place before we even realize it’s that time of year, and by the time we get out there all that’s left are a bunch of hanging pits.

Fortunately, they must have found a better spot this year, or maybe our “Shut-up-and-get-the-hell-out-of-here” vibes actually worked, because it's quieter and they actually left a decent amount of fruit on the tree. Of course just to spite us, it’s all at the top, tauntingly out of reach. I’m talking 40 feet up and on the flimsy extremities, where even I won't venture for fear of falling with enough force to halve myself on the fence.

Never fear, the Cadiz clan is smarter than those birdbrains. My parents rigged a system with a hooked 13-foot pole, some kind of basket and a ladder, and have been winning friends and influencing people with fruit all week. My mom actually heard the curmudgeon across the street speak and got the teenagers (my how they’ve grown!) in the corner house to stop and chat. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the neighbor next door will bring over a pie as a thank-you for our acrobatic efforts to procure the filling.

Of course, I took some for the road. Ri, Kaiya and I chilled at the Chicago Blues Fest, listening to music and spitting pits at each other. For the record, covering your mouth and making it look like you shot a cherry pit out your nose is still funny, even if you’re turning 30 soon. Or maybe it's especially funny because you’re turning 30 soon. I can’t decide.

It's only a matter of time before the cherry craze is over. It's been a tasty bonding experience, no doubt, but the end will probably be for the best. Sadly, it'll be a long while before I can fully enjoy the taste of artificial cherry flavoring again.

6 comments:

Alexandra said...

"Sadly, it'll be a long while before I can fully enjoy the taste of artificial cherry flavoring again" boy cadiz you can really find something to complain about in ANY situation eh!?? ;)

Jon said...

you know, I happen to be a very big fan of a certain type of cherry swirl coffee cake... I can't help but wonder what it would taste like with freshly picked cherries...

Lia said...

Hence those bucket trucks they call "cherry pickers". Although I've never heard of anyone using them to pick cherries. Frankly I've never seen a cherry tree that tall.

But then, I'm not sure I've ever seen a cherry tree.

ML said...

Yum, cherries! Nice basket :)

Rebecca said...

I have a sour pie cherry tree in my backyard, and in my four years of living at this house I have yet to pick them. Why? The damn crows. My cherries ripen around the Fourth of July (I live in Montana), and since I'm almost always out of town around that time, they get to them before I do. I'll leave on, say, July first; the cherries are not quite ripe then, you can tell that with two or three more days of 85 degree weather they'll be perfect. When I return a few days later, there's nothing left but the pits on the ground, and a few crows on the nearest fence, cackling at me. Bastards.

Guyana-Gyal said...

The power of fruits and trees to bring people together...my brother in Florida has a big yard, lots of fruit trees, you can imagine how the neighbours get tons of fruits.

I love that innovative fruit picker!

Was that irony in that last sentence? :-D