I don’t like cherries. I never have.
We had two huge, and aesthetically beautiful cherry trees growing in our yard, when I was growing up.
Inevitably, when running around bare-footed, in the summer when the cherries were ripe, I would step on them, and the feeling of them squishing underfoot was akin to stepping on a slug (another thing I always managed to do at least once a year – and we have BIG slugs in British Columbia). [Read more…]