Three hundred pounds of pecans.

Above is Jay Dark and his tree shaker. The shaker reaches up and clasps a branch and shakes the hell out of it. Pecans fall like manna from heaven.


Above is Howie evaluating my pecans and thinking about an offer I can't refuse. That is a dollar a pound. I picked and evaluated each and every one of those pecans. I estimated each nut's weight, color and general appearance. Platoons of doves and families of small rodents stood by to garner what they could. The doves I'm sure would make excellent eating.

I have been told that I need to change my Blogger profile. I don't get it. Who cares? I did think of an alternate profile. Actually I am sole owner of a small Pacific island which is covered with a growth of mold that is not immediately toxic to humans but which kills all forms of bacteria. Gram positive or negative means nothing. Mutations with the potential to develop resistance are non viable. Growing conditions for the mold cannot be duplicated elsewhere as longitude and latitude as well as weather, gravity, geochemistry etc etc are unique to the island. People come to the island to rid themselves of every single bacterium in on or around their bodies. They find out about the island from an internet ad that pops up at random absolutely anywhere. The web address changes randomly every 90 seconds. No one can actually live on the island for more than a couple of days, due to overgrowth of Other Organisms so employees are rotated through fairly quickly. I myself am quite fond of my other real estate, that is my body and mind and the bacteria within, with which I co-exist more or less amicably. I therefore do not visit the island. I allow the employees to make off with all the money they can, and I remain inconsequential.

I gotta go put that pecan money in the bank so I can make a dent in my Visa...............