This year's harvest.
There had been more. But two fell off when they were small and green. The crows got two more, pecking into them and hollowing the pulp out of them. There was a strange double-lobed one, and some lady picked that and walked off with it. And there was one damaged one that I salvaged a little while ago.
The two on the right were still firm. The one on the left was soft and ready to burst at the seams. This afternoon I scooped it out and used it to make rice pudding.
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