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| Our neighbor |
Richard has been asking if the apples from our trees are
any good. Or, alternatively, when we were going to pick our apples. By
mid-September, the only apples left hanging are those that birds and insects
have started on. He does not realize that we have that conversation every
Sunday when he comes for lunch. I usually make a joke that what is left on the
trees is for our neighbors. He thinks I mean our human neighbors, which would
be fine, but I mean our animal friends.
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