I am quite certain that normal people do not tear up in the produce aisle at the grocery store when they see and smell Bartlett Pears for the first time each fall. They remind me of my childhood in a teeny, tiny Northern California town. Pears and walnuts were, and still are, grown there. They remind be of Doober. They remind me of growing up as a Forest Ranger's daughter. When our walnuts are harvested in another month and a half, I am prepared to stroll down memory lane once again.
Meanwhile the Produce Man has something to talk about today.