Oranges To Oranges

This is Deputy Digby Pancake. Some things get compared. Sunshiney to rain.

Waffles to pancakes.

Oranges to oranges. Yes. You can compare oranges to oranges.

In this Florida place, oranges are treasured. They don’t grow like they used to.

Oranges are meant to be enjoyed. If there was a way that they could be pancakes on the inside when they were peeled, they would be perfect.

Girl Person has been feeling a bit under the weather this week. Allergies and dump smells mean for a lot of sneezing and coughing. So she decided to double up on her orange intake.

You would think that if you are in this Florida place, you could just walk outside and pick one off of a tree. But not so easy. Rarely though, when we are hiking in the woods, we find an orange tree that used to be taken care of. Maybe someone used to live there and moved away. And when we find one, Girl Person gets so happy. Because even if they are old and have went back to their root stock and they are sour, she can still use them like lemons! There is always a use for something or someone even if their purpose has changed.

And as we were walking yesterday at camp, we did find an old tree! No, it didn’t have a lot of little oranges. Only a few. And Girl Person had to climb to get some. But she did! They weren’t pretty or shiny. But Girl Person was happy anyways! And she saved them for later.

That same day, she had to go to the store to get some food for us. When she was there, she told us she found an oh so pretty bag of oranges. All shiny and perfect and lovely. She couldn’t resist. Yes. She remembered her less than perfect oranges at home. But these. These oranges were going to be great! She thought.

She got home and was all excited. She couldn’t wait to eat one of those shiny oranges.

As soon as she took her first bite, she knew.

You guessed it. It was plain sour. You would have thought Girl Person had just lost a million dollars instead of $8. But all of a sudden, she saw it. A lonely, dirty orange on the picnic table. Only waiting to be squeezed on a taco. It wasn’t planned to be enjoyed on its own. But now. It had a chance.

She peeled the little orange and took a bite and it was as sweet as her Pappy’s feelings towards his orange grove years ago. She was immediately transported back there and heard his words.

“Oranges aren’t always pretty. But the trees should be. Do as little as possible to them and let them be. They will give what they want to for as long as they can. Don’t mess with them too much. You’ll just mess it up.”

You see, in their orange grove, they didn’t have endless rows of trees. But the trees were often overflowing when other trees struggled all around. And although one day they stopped growing oranges and slowly died, they had done a good job. Yes. Other trees were there longer. But they were never as pretty. They never tasted like Pappy’s trees.

Oranges to oranges? Who can compare? It isn’t always how someone or something looks on the outside that tells you what’s on the inside, is it?

You see, shiny things may be shiny. But who or what are you looking past because of a little imperfection? Imperfection makes life delicious. Take a bite.

Deputy Digby Pancake

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The Traffic Tree

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. I have many duties in upholding the law. I even lay down the law when I’m laying down.

But when you’re camping full time like we are, you don’t know the routines of the ones you are policing. So you have to do a lot of watching to figure out who is breaking the law.

In site #15 here at the park, there is a very large tree. Deputy Digby has been giving up his TV bed the last few nights because he has been acting like a baby and wanting to sleep with Boy Person. So I get his spot which is prime seating right under the tree. The traffic tree.

You see, the daily commute for the locals here is a hard one. They have to navigate the traffic tree with its many limbs and branches. I see the traffic tie ups. I see the squirrels passing illegally. No blinkers. No turn signals. No laws being obeyed.

I see many accidents too. Squirrels falling, birds getting mad and pecking them. Oh, yes. The road rage is out of control.

Yes. It’s quite entertaining to me. But I also have to wonder if they like their daily commute. Are all the acorns they are looking to store up worth the travel? Do they ever wonder if they should work from home instead?

I have never understood why persons fight traffic and spend their hours getting to a place that they don’t want to be in the first place. Seems to me that if you have to be in traffic, the traffic tree is the best place to be.

The commute doesn’t last long. The other drivers just dust themselves off when they bump into each other, and they sing while they drive. Then, when they get tired of driving, the birds fly away and the squirrels go to the ground and take a break to eat.

Do they love the jobs they are going to? They say if you love what you do you will never work a day in your life. Although I’m not sure if that’s entirely true, I do know that getting to where you need to be takes work. Sometimes, if the traffic in your life is too much, you need to change direction. Sometimes, you might even need to stay where you are.

I have set up a speed trap. And now, my work begins. You see, speeding thru life isn’t acceptable either. There’s no excuse for breaking the law.

Think about your fights each day and the battles you choose. Life isn’t easy. But neither is traffic. Find your own traffic tree, make your own way and enjoy the ride.

Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle