Earning my stay in cherries

Here are some of the fruits of my labor this week (pun absolutely intended here). This morning I picked what I hope will be the last of the sour cherries, but chances are my host mom will find another sketchy ladder/branch combination for me to try out as we attempt to reach the highest fruits on our trees. Picking fruit for my host mom became my sole duty this week. 

It's one of those things you have to time just right. If you pick the sour cherries too early, then well...they are S-O-U-R! If you wait an extra day to pick them, they get too sweet, soft, and rot quickly on the branch. At least, that is what she tells me as I pick cherries from the highest rungs of our three-legged ladder and she eats to her heart's content from the bucket five feet below me. I did manage to fall off the ladder once this week...ouch.

On the plate, clockwise from the top, are the sweet, sour, and black cherry varieties I've harvested this week.

The fall from the ladder earned me an afternoon off, but the next morning we started again on the neighbor's sweet cherry tree. We didn't have to take our three-legged ladder with us, my host mom said, citing that the neighbor has her own we could use. Turns out, that wooden ladder has one leg and resembles a Pogo stick that can't bounce. 

Again, I worked while my host mom feasted. When a particularly soft and juicy fruit suddenly fell on her shoulder and left a red stain on her shirt (to which I was oblivious), she called up: "Hey, what did you do that for?" Then left me on the Pogo stick that can't bounce to finish the work. 

As I said in the post Weekend with the Popas, my friend Aura and I recently made a sour-cherry pie. Someone snapped this picture right as the serving began. A little juicier than desired, but the almond extract my Granny sent last fall made a great touch. Today, Aura's older sister has invited me over to help make a sweet cherry pie. Wish us luck, my pie crust skills leave much to be desired.