Peaches

Random thoughts about peaches (or rather, ALL my thoughts about peaches):
1. I worked at a peach farm for three summers in highschool. Just the memory of it makes the insides of my arms itch.
2. I had a political science professor in college who called me "Peaches". At the time I didn't think it was all that creepy. In hindsight - I should have dropped the class.
3. I'm fussy about peaches. There's nothing better than a good peach in season. There's nothing worse than a mushy, mealy peach out of season.

No one calls me Peaches anymore, but everyonce in awhile as I'm barefoot and apron clad in the kitchen canning or freezing my little summer treasures George can't help but call me Ma Ingles.

At first it baffled him. Why would I spend hours picking, washing, preparing and putting-up fruit when we have four super-markets within 1 mile of our house? I even began to doubt myself. But, one taste of my peach-cherry jam in mid-January and he was singing a different tune and praising Ma Ingles for her forsight.

Summer may be coming to an end much quicker than we wanted but I have 16 jars of strawberry jam, 12 jars of peach-cherry jam, peach cobbler, shredded zucchini and bags of frozen strawberries, blueberries, peaches and cherries ready to give us a little taste of summer anytime we need it!