Over the Mulberry

This year, if i had been the type to purchase the cellophane [or sheet as you will see later] and rig it in the required cradle-like fashion beneath the branches of this tree before the ripeness of each berry began plotting the desecration of our front porch, entry way, kitchen, and who knows where else, this bloglette would not exist. There was enough small talk concerning the ensuing bloom to adequately prepare my brain and joints for that harvesting task. Instead, I sit here witnessing the meeting between each matured creation with its concrete maker - the walkway to the house - just after the sweep of all sweeps. The experience helps me add to the list of things formerly unknown.




There was a phase of denial that bore the bed of droppings you see here- a mahchakal [bed in Armenian - bare with me while i prepare for the final exam that i was able to get an extension on] that more than likely hosted thousands of fly larva in the weeks it took to form. Don't doubt though that now all realities have set in concerning what it means to have a mulberry tree as a centerpiece of a concrete patio area. Cleaning up tracked-in berries for the 50th time takes a toll on the soul.



Part of me is hoping that the occasional torrents of cool summer weather Armenia experiences, something reported by the Dutch roommate, will undo the negligence of which i am guilty through Permanent-rest-o'-fly. Sure the berry is tasty, but as you can see, their death - like most - takes some concerted energy to clean up. They're continuously everywhere, like that person named Jesus or Francesca Schiaveno - kudos.

Next year, one of my subtitles will be Mulberry Harvester/Liquor Distiller. Eej and I had the pleasure of tasting this type of vodka at a farewell gathering in February. Hamayak indicated that it takes 10 kilos of these suckers to make a liter of vodka. Coincidentally, during our urge to pluck from the overly pregnant tree [wishing it was a bush referenced in the children's song] he and Elen his German speaking daughter came over to help with the harvesting.



Note the hard way to do this - small pot in hand versus the smart way - big sheet in multiple hands with a person willing to monkey up the tree and shake the branches like a primate lacking human words, though fully capable of the physical equivalent.






Feeling a little closer to understanding the process of development. Here's to a somewhat welcomed "i feel ya."


















At the base of this statue on Saturday was a gathering of about 6 people holding pictures of a person who had been arrested some weeks ago in the same square, apparently because he was part of the opposition. This surface information was gathered by a friend from one of the six, which was then translated on to me. One can see people enjoying their time on roller blades around the small to-do. Really, it was just only several people with enlarged photo graphs. You can't see the people holding the pictures as they're sitting at the base - a position they decided to take when more police and about 6 men in soldier uniforms showed up. Most interesting was when they began to chant, which means in unison they said loudly the name of the arrested approximately 5 times. The megaphone in the middle of the crowd was used at just about point blank range [ouch!] of the faces of the chanters while the phrase, "Don't disturb public order," and something else, which missed translation, made it to the lobes of people expressing their opinion. interesting. As the picture hopefully accurately portrays, the majority, let's say 90% of the people, gathered are the Reaction to the picture holders. Had there not been any police/soldiers/photographers, unfortunately, i doubt hardly a Saturday-er would have noticed. Curious to know what the sports car toting dude in the foreground makes of it all.

Just about through the 3rd season of The Office. Life is funny, because i'm only now (and appropriately so) falling in love with the cast/storyline.