I'm not Amish, and I don't really blame my yeghpayrner in California, but I'll never be able to enjoy another supermarket orange. Here I am, back in New England, and about to enjoy my 'California navel' orange for my morning treat, but it has no taste! I have been spoiled rotten by the real thing in sunny California. No problem, you might say. Just go out into your back yard and pick the leaves of violets as the Amish children did years ago. (Do they still do that?) [See yesterday's post.] So out I went into my sunny chilly back yard, and this is what I saw.
Violet colored wildflowers, yes, but no violets and no possibility of gathering fresh vitamin C for breakfast.
And so I write to those of you who are blessed with an orange tree in your back yards: this morning I ate what I thought was an orange; it looked like an orange, it felt like an orange -- but oh, dear, it was NOT the orange that I learned to love from your tree! Thank you, California, for the sunny carefree days you gave me, but no thanks to you for preventing me from ever again enjoying any but a freshly picked orange!!!!
Such a cool post!
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