Seldom do I get very excited about what grows out of my jungle in the back yard, but this year is a major exception. This is the first year out of the last seven or eight that I have a bountiful crop of grapes hanging from my arbor.
Granted, there aren't enough to make a vat of wine (I don't drink anymore anyhow), but there's plenty to play Caesar Augustus and pop them into my mouth while quaffing a fine root beer and watching the Seahawks.
I've noticed that there are a few tiny birds who like my grapes as well, but they don't take much. I haven't even had any raccoons raid the stores.
I am asked, "What do you do with the seeds?"
Duh, I spit them out like watermelon seeds? Is everything in the grocery store seedless these days? I just make sure that Lily the Terrorist doesn't get any. They're not supposed to be good for dogs - even terrorists. It's a good thing she doesn't like 'em anyway.
I didn't even know when these things ripened until this year. They were always frozen or ripped off by some critter before they were ready before. Now I know. I will mark this on my calendar for next year and keep my fingers crossed.
Between the grapes and the blackberries, I could become a king of my hill!
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