Awhile ago, I thought it’d be nice to have a fruit bowl on the table. We’d have apples and bananas and grapes just like one of the endless, boring still lifes you see on vacation muesem strolls. Minus the marble-eyed fish and shoulder flashing milk-maids.
Keeping all that fruit from rotting is tough work. Bananas spoil faster than can be eaten, even avacados. Kim tried some grapes, which were fantasic for room temperature snacks, but a disturbing number still spoiled.
At the moment, our fruit bowl is empty. The question is if we should fill it back up. We’d have to make our selves eat fruit more, which seems to be the problem. Picking up a stray apple, peach, or avacado seems like too much to ask for us.