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YES, WE HAVE NO MORE ONIONS

This afternoon I heard then saw a small troop of monkeys going ape, yelling and flailing in the trees, clearly over some sizable misfortune. They were across the road at a safe distance from my garden, so it took me a bit of the simian equivalent of eavesdropping to determine why the rambling thieves were practically tearing their hair out in utter flabbergastion as they swung despondently from pointless branch to even more pointless branch: they had just confirmed the rumor that I have no more onions, and that in their stead I have Thai dragons and tabascos and jalapenos. I did, however, get a care package of sweet white onions from Yuri, Ken Rodger's very kind wife, who has no monkeys and took pity on my onionlessness; the monkeys do not like this one-sided largesse, however, though they like the Thai dragons less, and keep their distance. Even now they go wild.