April 2, 2016 | 13 Comments The life of a farmer is not easy. I know because we farm bananas in Mazatlán–without success. We started by cultivating regular bananas but the banana palms overwhelmed us, overrunning our yard. We retaliated by ripping them out and introducing a dwarf variety of banana. That bit of crop husbandry succeeded except the dwarves have refused to ripen in time–they procrastinate until after we’ve left Mexico–until now. Last week one dwarf banana, unlike its 72 companions, turned yellow. Overnight, without warning, it transitioned into something resembling a yellow banana. It was an ambitious banana compared to the others in the bunch. It wasn’t the first in the bunch, nor the last; it occupied a spot in the middle. A yellow gem huddled in the midst of bananas even greener than the ones they try to fob off on you in Calgary grocery stores. There’s a sense of creative accomplishment in raising your own produce, even if it is only one lonely banana. We wanted to savor the experience for at least one day before harvesting this gift and using it to top our morning cereal. Dawn of the following day brought only disappointment. Contrary to what one is told in Ecclesiastes, the race does go to the swiftest. Overnight, a fruit bat (or possibly a possum who had raided our garden before) got there before us and dined on the morsel. EXPAND THIS PHOTO—The hollowed out shell of our only yellow banana. Now, all we can look forward to is a half-eaten yellow banana surrounded by 72 bananas stubbornly retaining their green complexion; all waiting for us to leave in April before metamorphosing into edible fruit.
no te sientas mal yo voy a comprarte un kilo de platanos en el mercado y me puedes inbitar cereal Reply
It was trying to be the top banana, but it gave up to the king of the crop, knowing you were patiently waiting for the crown to be yours. Such a dilemma, could only fall upon your shoulders. Ponder, ponder!! Reply
In actual fact, Ecclesiastes got it right given that you have religiously followed verse 3:2 which says there is “a time to plant and a time to uproot”. Now you have to fully adhere to verse 3:4 which says there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh”. So let the lamentation end and the laughter begin … Reply
“a time to weep and a time to laugh” – I can’t believe how appropriate that is – I sit at the feet of the master. Translation: I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t pick it up and am now trying to figure out how to grab it for myself. oh well – you get the credit. Reply
It is a very slippery slope producing bananas. You can trip up so easily. One slip and you are done. OK enough of that. Dry the husks in the oven and roll a big one, remember Mellow Yellow. Reply
Well Kenny that is the plight of the traveler moving from one location to the next. We non- traveler’s always see our bananas ripen (metaphorically speaking) but maybe miss some of the adventure and the days in the sun. Tom is right and when you are back the same is true for fruits of the north. It is said bananas are not good for you, let the beasts be fed there are bananas in the market for you traveler’s if you must. Dinner when you return, opening the lake on Thursday see you soon. Reply
The fruit bats must look forward to your departure and your generous gift of fruit each spring. Time to come home and leave the exotic fruit behind. Trees have budded, leaves are visible and tulips are up. Spring has truly arrived in Calgary. Reply
Hello Ken Cut the bananas into what the call hands. Those are the grouping of bananas on the stalk. Place in a paper bag and place an apple in that bag….Three days success!!! Reply
It was a top bananna. The best and badest.How fitting that you have memoralized it. Maybe next year! Reply