Midweek

Peak oil, peak people, peak planet. Too much drek out there. Walking the dogs gets you back to earth. The Ferrari brothers have been hauling me around their neighborhood this week, and leaving no bits of anything unsmelt. They're keen little observers, noting every squirrel, crow and cat as they trot or run along, heads swiveling, but not barking. I'm sure they would be effective little hunters. In their owners' back yard, branches of a large old plum tree hang over the fence from next door. I have license to pick as many of these Italian prunes as I like. They are enormous blue purple fruits, just soft to the touch and warm, with that musky odor of perfect ripeness. If the results weren't so dramatic, you could sit there and eat until gorged. I bring them home and share them.