Today, as I rolled along on my way to Arlington to the Village Creek Natural Historical Area for my regularly scheduled Sunday jog with the Indian Ghosts who haunt this location, I had the radio playing loud.
The vehicle has six speakers, so sound sounds like it is coming from multiple directions. As I waited for a light to turn green suddenly sound seemed to be coming out of my jogging pants pocket.
After a few seconds of being puzzled by the sound I realized it was my phone. I struggled to extract the phone from the pocket. By the time I freed the phone and touched the screen I think I rejected the call. I then saw the rejected call was from Spencer Jack's dad, he being my Favorite Nephew Jason.
I got to Village Creek and text messaged Jason explaining the phone answering debacle and that I was about to go jogging for a few miles.
Shortly before taking the picture you see above the phone made its incoming text message noise. I stopped jogging under some shade to soon find myself reading the following text message from the aforementioned Jason...
Having lunch at the Reading Railroad Terminal Market. The Amish lunch makers apparently don't work Sunday's, so I had to settle for an antipasto salad. Off to the Wanamaker building to hear the organ. Call back after you have completed your marathon training, if desired.
As I read Jason's text message I was almost clobbered by that green thing you see me holding. This is the time of year these delicious looking pieces of tree fruit fall to the ground. Maclura Pomifera is this fruit's fancy name. It is also known as Osage orange, horse apple, hedge apple, bois d'arc, bodark and monkey ball.
Monkey ball?
I gleaned this monkey ball info from the Wikipedia article about the serious Maclura Pomifera issue.
When I was finished with the jogging, which, incidentally, went well today, and was back in air-conditioned vehicular comfort I called Jason. The call went to voice mail. I left a message, then headed for home. A mile later Jason called back. Sounds like he's having himself a mighty fine time in Philadelphia, going to museums, visiting Benjamin Franklin's grave, having lunch (yesterday) with some friendly Amish Dutch girls and other stuff I am not remembering.
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