Pecanland

I took the dogs for a walk today, and I wasn't the least bit surprised to see Lily poop out a pecan loaf. Last night, when everyone had gone to bed, I flopped down on the couch to watch some bad college football, and I noticed that my two canine sidekicks weren't there with me. I found them outside, shelling and eating a pecan feast.

I lit the pipe, and started opening pecans with them. I tried to get Lily to understand that if she would fetch them to me, I would shell them and split the good part with her. I wouldn't have to walk or bend over; she wouldn't be eating pecan shell. I've met plenty of dogs who are smart enough to have understood, but I've never had one who was that smart.

I've been picking up pecans as I come across them, and in the mornings, it can take me 20 minutes to cross my 60-foot patio. If I bend over to pick up one, I'll feel two more underfoot. I end up having to curl my shirt up and load them into a big makeshift pocket, like we did as kids to collect tennis balls.

I've got a medium sized ice chest half full, and I just started picking them up this weekend. I think we're going to have a record harvest.