Fruits of our labors

I'm picking and pitting cherries again, this week. There's another bumper crop in my back yard. One of my two dwarf Northstar cherry trees has already produced five quarts, perfect for a pair of pies, (I've consigned the other tree to my bestest friend, Mari, in exchange for her mowing my ever-shrinking lawn -- since we've been mulching and converting the grasslands to vegetable and flower garden). The great thing about that is, I've probably picked less than a third of the total on that one tree, and have pitted them and popped them in the deepfreeze until later this summer.

Last year, we got less than a pint off the pair of trees --the ice storm in early spring killed most of the blossoms, and what was left got blown off during a couple of storms. This year, the mild, wet spring has brought me a bumper crop, and I'm feeling smug. We shall have the juiciest, tastiest cherry pie in town.

I might even share a bit of this, when a certain musically-inclined professor comes to town. We shall see.