Momma's grape? Ohhh pardon moi, I stand corrected twoooooo grapes... We must humor her.
This is her yearly trauma. Her "Grapes of Wrath" if you will. She plants and nurtures grape plants. She had a grape arbor built! The grapes come out... She oogles them. Plans a tasting etc... and plans a trip to the cheese shop, and then, after the sees the grapes, then and only then, ... the sadist squirrel snatches them from her mouth, laughing, mocking her, and crushing her hopes and dreams. It happens every year. And so... she is left to brine and stuff grape leaves...nuff said. Can't find them? 11 o 'clock in the picture.
I personally have no idea why she even wants to eat those things... as they are pre-raisins eeeeeeek. I must go assemble the consolation kit. Tissues, gardening book for next year [keep the dream alive and all that rot] my fluffy self, my my pink belly, and let's see... how about if I share one of my toys... something that helps me work out my rage... ok ok ... orangetang!!!
My work is never done.....
'vie
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