Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Judy, for my pecan tree in Tulsa you would have needed your bushel basket. One year I got 340 lbs off that one tree and they are papershell pecans. Since my son moved into the house not one pecan has been collected from the tree. Do you think trees can miss people or does it remember when my son was growing up there he cursed the tree?
Applause for Ron and all his hard work planting those trees. I'm sure he will enjoy the pecan pies you make when those trees start producing lots of nuts.
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Oh, darn. I had my bushel basket ready!!
ReplyDeleteJudy, for my pecan tree in Tulsa you would have needed your bushel basket. One year I got 340 lbs off that one tree and they are papershell pecans. Since my son moved into the house not one pecan has been collected from the tree. Do you think trees can miss people or does it remember when my son was growing up there he cursed the tree?
ReplyDeleteApplause for Ron and all his hard work planting those trees.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure he will enjoy the pecan pies you make when those trees start producing lots of nuts.