Mangos. I love mangoes. They are delicious; they are pretty; they make my trash smell great, and they are plentiful this time of year. It is literally raining mangos right now, so much so that I have to be careful to watch where I’m walking for fear of getting bruised by a juicy mango falling from its tree.
It’s mostly fun and games, but like most things in life,
there is a tradeoff: Moscas, and lots of
them. Mangoes are like crack to flies.
And it’s not just a few, they come in swarms. There are flies anywhere and everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, they totally suck, but
it’s oddly amusing seeing the places you find flies.
Word on the street is that they’ll start to go away soon,
but I guess that also means that mangoes will too. With my new-found love of mangos, I’m not
sure I’ve ever felt so conflicted about something.
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| I keep this bowl full and my screen door closed. Because that's what people who love mangoes do. |
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| Cabo Delgado Mangoes (one of the many varieties), in all their stringy goodness. |
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