Peaches

The aroma, fragrance, scent of the peaches led me to the bin in the produce department. Knowing I'm not much of a fruit eater, I carefully selected only two peaches that were round, deep gold and blush in color, and just slightly soft to the touch. Two weeks later I pulled the barely recognizable peaches out of my refrigerator crisper and tossed them into the trash. That is how it usually goes with peaches in my world.

Juggling many tasks and responsibilities in a day makes me impatient. And so, I'm often impatient. This week has been packed with grandkids, errands, bill paying, and so on. I probably do less than many people but my evenings, after 5:00, are simply reserved for being home. I don't think that is a conscious decision so much as a comfortable habit.

Anyway, I hadn't seen Mom and Dad all week but talked to them everyday. I sat aside some time in the afternoon to see them because I wanted to and needed to. I called Mom at 1:00 and told her I'd be over shortly with a Subway Club, 6 inch, on white, toasted, with tomatoes, peppers, onions, american cheese and ranch dressing. That is Dad's favorite. Mom had just finished her cereal so I knew I didn't need to bring her lunch.

We had a nice chat while Dad ate. I played with Willie the chihuahua, who is always insatiable when it comes to play. I began to feel the impatience building when Mom and Dad both wanted to take an old clock that had belonged to my uncle to a clock repair shop. And they wanted to go get peaches at an orchard out east of town. As my husband would later say, they have peaches at United. I've already described what happens to my market peaches. Glancing at my watch I saw that almost an hour of my budgeted two hour parent time had passed. I encouraged Mom and Dad to pick up the pace, we loaded the clock, put out the dog, and left the house.

Ten minutes later we arrived at the address of the clock repair shop. To our surprise and my delight it was not in a retail center but in a lovely old home near 34th and Avenue Q. The lady was gracious and came out to the car to meet us and led us into her home. She introduced us to the Mr. and told us some about the home (built in 1928) which they had purchased and remodeled a few years ago. She led the way and I followed up to their workshop on the 2nd floor. We worked out the details of the clock repair. The woman was so friendly and charming and the house such fun to see (I have a thing about homes - particularly old ones that have been redone) that I was GLAD to have taken Mom and Dad on this errand.

Next, came the peaches. We drove out east 50th Street and as I began to quiz Mom and Dad about where exactly we were heading, I felt the impatience creep back. The budgeted time was almost up and they really didn't know exactly where the peach orchard was located. Hmmmm. We chatted as we drove, looking at a few prarie dogs in fields along the way. Mom said it was a dirt road on the left. Dad said we should just watch for a sign. Sure enough, just ahead on the left was a big sign that said PEACHES. We turned off onto the dirt road and saw many cars parked on the edge of the orchard less than a quarter mile off the mail road. There were people walking everywhere and a table where they would weigh your peaches and take your money. A homemade sign said Freestone Peaches, 80 cents per lb. It was about that time that I realized this wasn't a fruit stand where we would buy peaches, but a place where we were to pick our own. Hmmmm. It was 98 degrees outside and there was another sign that said Watch Out for Wasps. We all got out of the car and walked toward the stand and I soon realized, as did Mom and Dad, that regretfully the peach gathering would be more than they would be able to do physically. We talked to the orchard owner who told us to feel free to eat all we wanted while picking peaches. I picked a couple of small beauties and gave them to Mom and Dad. They took the keys and went back to the car while I picked.

Although I started out with a hint of frustration, I truly enjoyed picking the peaches. It grew on me...what can I say. I had about 6 peaches in the bag before I decided to eat one. I plucked a pretty one and bit in. The peach was super sweet and juicy and warm from the sun. I gathered another half dozen from one tree and then saw a tree with some loaded branches on the next row. The heat and fear of wasps receded to a quiet corner of my mind. I was one with the peach trees. :-) Let's just say that I could have picked more than the two dozen or so I gathered but I knew Mom and Dad were probably ready to go. I ended up using an hour more than my budgeted time but felt happy and just didn't care.

The next day I took my m-i-l and Mom back but the orchard had closed. Pylons were placed at the access of the dirt road so we didn't get to gather more peaches.

The outing on Friday with Mom and Dad led me to think about things that are worth hanging onto. Old clocks, traditions like picking peaches, and spending time with family. I'll start perusing the 'fresh produce' section of the classifieds - wonder when the black-eyed peas will be ready?