17 pound jackfruit early sunset lights beach walk
The week began with an extra long Sunday: the government summarily reduced the duration of evening sunlight. Nazy was, of course, disconsolate.
“It is really stupid, Dan. When the days become shorter, we need more sunshine in the evening, not less.”
“Rumor has it, my dear, that the loss of sunshine in the early evening is compensated by additional sunlight in the early morning.”
“Early morning? Who will notice?”
“Some people like to get up early.”
“People with that kind of defect are not qualified to have an opinion on sunshine.”
“Yes dear.” I replied.
Nazy and I, aficionados of The Weather Channel, noticed that the time change was accompanied by dramatic drops in temperature on the East Coast. Accordingly, we decided that it would be a good time to go for a stroll on beach.
(Arrow thought that was a good idea.)
Needless to say, the weather here has been beautiful, indeed, almost perfect: I confess that cool morning temperatures have sometimes forced me to wear a long-sleeve shirt when I go out before 11:00AM.
In a bow to West Coast weather veracity, I can also confirm that it snowed in the Seattle area while Mitra was visiting Darius, Christiane and lovely Leandra in Washington State. And, here in Santa Barbara, we are awaiting commencement of the ‘rainy season’. Personal experience indicates an average 5 year gap between ‘rainy seasons’, so I’m not holding my breath.
We stayed at the beach until the conveniently early and predictably spectacular sunset.
We had some special time with Tiger this week. I took him to the park to feed the ducks, then to the playground, the MOXI children’s museum, and, finally, the fruit and vegetable section at the local grocery store.
“Fruit and vegetable?” A confused stranger asked. “You must be the most boring grandfather ever,” this same person thought.
When Tiger and I patrol the fruit and vegetable arena, we marvel at the different varieties of pear, we wallow in the fuzziness of peaches, we’re astonished that peppers come in red, yellow, green and orange. We bristle as we brush kiwi against the palm of our hands. We wonder why some asparagus is white while others are green. And, on the look out for heftiness, we weigh the produce.
Tiger, who likes to see the needle on the scale move quickly, is particularly impressed by heavy fruit. Accordingly, he’s underwhelmed by passion fruit which is so light that it floats on water. (It’s so light that it would blow away if someone sneezed in the right direction.) Heretofore, watermelon has been the most emphatic fruit on the scale. But…
“What is that, Dan?” Tiger exclaimed as we cruised past the ‘exotic fruit’ display.
“The sign says it’s a jackfruit, Tiger.” I replied.
“Wow! How much does it weigh?”
I (carefully) lifted the jackfruit onto the scale. It was…
“15, Dan.” Tiger exclaimed. “That’s more than those little watermelons.”
As soon as we got home, Tiger told Nazy about the jackfruit. And, the next day, we all drove to the grocery store to see our discovery. (Arrow wasn’t interested.)
They only had one left — but it was 17 pounds. While we were marveling and asking passersby what it tasted like, the manager of the fruit department came by. Seeing our unvarnished excitement, he offered cut it open and let us try it. Jackfruit has an interesting texture: tasting a bit like a cross between a banana and a cherimoya. [Tiger, while thrilled by the 17 pounds, refused to take part in the taste test.] Arrow tried it: he spit it out.
Arrow is willing to try almost anything, provided he can do it himself. He wants to do everything by himself. His experience with a spoon is particularly illustrative of the challenge. He doesn’t want anyone to use the spoon to feed him: He wants to do it all by himself. Unfortunately, he has trouble getting the food to stay on the spoon. When he is frustrated by this situation, he shovels the food to the edge of his plate and them bends his head down and pushes things into his mouth.)
On occasion, he gets something to stick to the spoon, but…
“That won’t work!” I shouted. “You have your pacifier in your mouth, Arrow.” I thought as he splashed oatmeal on his cheek.
Arrow is beginning to talk. He can say, among others, Mama, Dada, Car, Tiger, Tower, Bamboo and Stick. He likes to go for walks with me, but unlike Tiger at that age, he won’t hold hands because he wants to decide where he is going. He reminds me of Darius..
“… and I don’t want that woman telling me where to go,” Darius explained.
“It’s not a woman, Darius. It’s a navigation computer.”
“I’m not going to pay extra for it, Dad. I don’t want to forget how to find my own way.”
“You may have to pay extra to find a car without a navigation system,” I thought.
Luckily, little news from Castle Tweetmore this week: the scoundrel in chief delegated stupidity to the Republican Party of Alabama.
For last week's letter, please click here
Arrow