If it’s avocados that I’m tripping over on the ground in my backyard, it must be August. I remember hearing 40 years ago about avocados falling to the ground and people just letting the wild pigs eat them. All I could think of was how my mom would delight in drizzling a vinaigrette into a half-avocado and delicately spoon out mouthfuls of what must have been heaven’s nectar, the way she reveled in one of Ohio’s quintessential summer experiences. And you say pigs eat them here?
Now I get it. Our tree has hundreds. They have just begun to drop, two to four every day, but soon it will be 10. Already I’m giving them away, but I won’t be able to keep up when there are 70+ in a week. I guess if you have to have problems, this is one to have. When I’m in the water at Kaimana Beach over the weekend, I’ll put my mind to solving it.