olives yesterday. One of the people on my regular bike route offered me some.
He lives with his dog and his dog will eat the fallen, raw olives. They are not the best food for a dog. The best solution is to pick the olives and offer them to anyone foolish enough to say "yes".
After being asked more than once I said "yes" in order to relieve his anxiety to be rid of them. Then I wondered again if I could be bothered.
There is, naturally, more than one way of doing it. Whichever way you choose it is a long process. I read. I read some more. I looked at the olives which are small and black - not those big Kalamata olives Middle Cat's mother-in-law used to deal with so competently. Were they worth at least six weeks of work? A lot of salt and a lot of water were involved too.
I consulted a Greek friend. She looked at me as if I was more than slightly insane and said, "Don't bother - not worth the effort."
The Senior Cat said, "Put them in the compost. They won't get wasted that way."
I put them in the compost.
But, I feel a little guilty. They were, potentially, food. I hate wasting food. When I cook I like to be able to plan ahead so that things don't get wasted. And yes, we do eat olives in this house.
Perhaps I just need to think of it in terms of knowing that I have saved the dog a tummy ache - and his owner the anxiety.