Quite a weekend we had. Saturday featured Mafua up a tree. He is from Tonga and provides his church with breadfruit from our tree. One breadfruit lasts us about a week, so we could not possibly keep up without Mafua's help. It needs to be topped, because it's right in the view, as soon as it stops bearing fruit. We always take breadfruit as an appetizer to the Thanksgiving dinner at cousin Susan's house. It's nice with homemade mayonnaise or garlic infused olive oil.
And here I am channeling my inner kindergartener, working on a few clay things. It's fun and not serious for me.
We did have some excitement. Terry disappeared for about an hour and a half, and I assumed he was working in the lab. I was on the point of snapping at him when he showed up, but I'm very glad I didn't. He had been digging a compost pit in the back yard, narrow and about five feet deep. When he was finished, he couldn't get out of it. Took him a while. "Why didn't you call me for help?" I asked. "You wouldn't have heard me," he answered. It's true I'm hard of hearing, but not that hard of hearing!