Persimmons are neat. I grew up in a house at the bottom of a driveway with two other houses on it, and the house at the front had a persimmon tree in the side yard next to their chickens. Every morning while waiting for the school bus, Cage and I would pick as many as we could and eat them at school all day. I hadn’t seen them since I’d moved from that house until a few months ago, when I found them at Trader Joe’s. Anyway. Fruit is a lovely thing and persimmons make me nostalgic (and hungry).
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