Bletted and my first taste of an Open-Arse, I'm converted!
My tree has fruited and the first fruits are rotting, bletting, nicely. Until they turn to a soft brown goo, like apple sauce, inside the starfish opening they are not edible. I tried my first one yesterday and found out what I have been missing all these years. Wonderful.
This white top writeth myne olde yeris;
Myn herte is mowled also as myne heris —
But if I fare as dooth an open-ers.
That ilke fruyt is ever lenger the wers,
Til it be roten in mullok or in stree.
We olde men, I drede, so fare we:
Til we be roten, kan we nat be rype;