The Summer of Peaches.
That's how I will remember it this year.
For me they are the quintessential fruit of Summer.
Ordinarily, we have to drive about 60 miles to get anywhere near truly fresh peaches. Back when our kids were little, S. and I used to drive up to the orchards and pick them ourselves or if not, then go to the packing shed and pack our own in boxes we brought with us. Then we would come home and can them as fast as possible before they went bad.
The extent of my fresh peach eating would be confined to smashing a few into my face while I was slipping the skins off prior to putting them in the jars, standing over the sink with juice dripping down my chin. This blissful experience would only last for a few days, maybe a week tops. Then the long spell of dreaming of fresh summer peaches would begin again.
This year has been different. Very different. Because every week at the farmers market, Hunter Orchards arrives with a van load of peaches just picked off their trees which grow not one hour from here. All different kinds of peaches too. Early, mid, and late season ones.
Early on, I bought one box and shared them with a friend. I froze the ones I didn't eat standing over the sink.
Then I bought another box and made peach cobbler and froze a few more and ate the rest standing over the sink.
Now each week I buy for or five and eat them
(Standing over the sink. We GET it. Sheesh.)
I was GOING to say, sliced into a bowl with a little dab of sugar to bring out the juices.
(That sounds a lot more civilized.)
I'm trying not to devolve into a total wild thing, even though I DO live alone and drink milk straight out of the carton.
(Good lord.)
Hey, there are worse habits.
Anyway, I told the nice young woman from the orchard that this may well be the first year of my life that I actually get my FILL of good fresh peaches. This made her very happy.
It makes ME very happy.
And guess what?
Today is Thursday... market day!!!
(Sigh. Somebody go warm up the sink.)
