peaches, and blogging problems

Phew! Thank goodness the peaches are all off the tree. In spite of several branches breaking off and ruining the fruits on them, in spite of squirrels eating bites out of half the peaches on the tree AND on the ground, and even in spite of worms... I have discovered that there aren't many things you can do with peaches. I like them straight off the tree, but how many can one person eat in a day?

I froze quite a few without sugar for making pies to eat this winter, and I froze smaller freezer bags with a little sugar on them to put on our cereal; but we are two old people who don't eat as much of anything as we once did. There was a time I probably made some kind of pie almost every week, but these days I doubt if I make more that two or three in a year. Anyway, today the last of the peaches are on my kitchen table. When I started this little story yesterday, I had four ice cream buckets full of peaches, covered with towels to keep the fruit flies away from them. There's also a small dish of vinegar sitting beside the buckets, waiting for those fruit flies to swim to their death.

I'm glad to be getting all the fruit flies out, and all the sweet stickiness off of the countertop.

Now, on to the next topic: a while back, I messed up the the part of my blog only I can see; now it's telling me to remove myself from my blog. I had hoped my daughter could get my blog back to normal, but apparently not, and she was the one who was supposed to tell everybody I'm dead or in an institution of some sort. Now this is all I see.

This is how it should look; this is my old blog, and I'm thinking about just using it again. Why? Because it worries me that my last entry on Just Me has had over 1,500 people supposedly following me! That can't be right.

Over on the top right side below... and the numbers keep growing.

I can't even delete my blog if I wanted to.

But I am still allowed to create blog entries??? After telling myself to get off my own blog?

Strange things happen when one isn't as sharp as she used to be.