Figs

Figs, not dates (too cold and wet for dates), which the hosts, thus us as well do not dry. I have been spending my moments off putting bags over exposed fig bunches to protect them from the birds. It is funny to see these birds inspecting every fig on the tree. They peck and prod, chirp, poop, then jump to the next branch, and repeat. Eventually they, locate a ripe one, and begin to peck vigorously, wherein I come running out yelling, they scatter, allowing easy collection of the slightly damaged, but ripe fig. Needless to say, I cannot guard the figs when working in the mornings, thus the bags. SO think of this as you sit down to eat your dinner on Thursday, it will be Friday morning for me, and I will be eating figs.
Kelsey can find her own.