Fresh Oranges for a Week
We were greeted by a friendly man Jules, one afternoon in our first week of moving in. He was our next door neighbour looking for the previous owner, but gifted us the big bag of fresh oranges instead. Noting that Jules' accent was remarkably different yet familiar, I had to ask where that was from. Good old Pennsylvania in the US of A. How refreshing.
These oranges are an annual harvest from a 95-year-old man's orange tree. (Not Jules.) Being 95 years of age, these oranges were picked from the ground. Each one so fresh, ripe and juicy. We enjoyed these vitamins for days.
I decided not to be rude -- after a week of enjoying the oranges -- and dug out a suitable card from the chaos that is my work room. This round orange cat print done by my friend in Princeton, Cathy aka Kittybutt, was just perfect. We recently spotted an orange cat of similar size on Jules' property. They have 4 kitties, and one of them was certainly the biggest orange cat I ever laid eyes on.