Jilda was cooking dinner and I had some spare time on my hands. While cutting grass yesterday, I noticed that the Figs were getting ripe. I didn't stop and examine the bush so I only saw a few.
Rather than drive myself insane sitting on the couch and smelling the aroma of corn, blackeyed peas, and ham coming from the kitchen, I headed for the fig bush.
When I got there, I realized that I had underestimated the number of ripe figs. Within a few minutes, I'd picked a gallon of perfectly ripened fruits. I also ate about 20.
Did I Mention that I love figs?