Tis the season for the best dang peaches this side of Brigham. My ma and pa moved a few years back from our ancestral home to a lovely home on the hill. I have to admit I hated their moving, and I still can’t find anything at my mom’s new home, but dang it, I love the peach trees that came along with the purchase. Wasn’t it the Reverend Mother who said to dear Maria, “When the lord closes a door, he always opens a window.” This window that was opened has the lovely scent of peaches wafting through it, and large orange orbs full of juiciness, starring right at you. If I can’t have the pool anymore, at least I can have some peaches.
She’s pretty dang cute too!
Those three little trees that my mom has are amazing. They produce the biggest, most beautiful peaches, and are just loaded to the hilt. These few weeks in late Sept. and early Oct. are a peach lovers delight.
I have been dying to blog about the peach raper for months now, and the day has finally come. I am writing it down for posterity. Last year my mom had been monitoring the progress of the peaches and they were a little slower than the previous year. It was actually Oct. by the time the peaches were absolutely ready to pick. Seriously they were beautiful. Humongous peaches, that I’m sure would have been at least a size DD bra cup. They were that big. My mom was leaving town the evening of Oct. 2nd for a few weeks and had told me and my sis-in-law K to come the next morning and pick to our hearts content. She then proceeded to tell us that a friend of hers was going to come the next day or two and clean up the rest. K and I had it planned. We were to meet at the peach tree at a certain time and pick, and tell stories, and giggle like school girls as we picked our treasure. Then the world came to a complete standstill.
I got a phone call just a few minutes away from my mom’s house the next morning and it was K calling asking where the peach trees were. What? K knew exactly where they were and I thought she must be having one of those pregnant lady moments. “K they are right in back, down the rocks. You know the trees with the huge orange things growing on them.” I said. Her response to me was, “There are only naked trees Lisa. There isn’t a thing on any tree or any peaches even on the ground.” How could this be? K must be blind. I don’t know, but this could not be true. I started to cry and then I said a few swear words. ( I’m sorry, but those little four letter words sometimes just get the best of me. I’m really working on this. I’m really trying to act like a bishop’s wife.) There were supposed to be peaches galore for us, but now there was nothing.
I got to my mom’s and we inspected and sure enough there wasn’t even a squished peach in the grass. If I hadn’t seen the peaches the week before I would not have known those three little trees contained peaches. Those poor little peach trees had been totally stripped and raped by my mothers good for nothing moochy friend. (I am getting all worked up about this just remembering.) I called my mom, but since they were in-flight to a sunny lovely location all I could do was leave a teary message, and travel home wishing I had just had a bad dream. To find out, the nasty woman had come immediately after my parents left the night before and took every last peach. They even vacuumed the grass of all traces of peaches. We figured there were at least 15 bushels of peaches on those trees, and I hoped she choked on her peach crisp, and peach cobbler, and fresh peaches with 1/2 and 1/2 since I wasn’t going to get any of those things that year.
We put a friend ban on my mom this year. She could have nothing to do with the peach raper, and everyone would feel better all the way around. I know my mom felt liberated! Or at least I felt a little bit of justice, or was it revenge? I don’t care, but the peach raper gets no peaches this year. I picked 5 buckets the other day and I have been enjoying every moment of canning them, and eating them fresh, and all sorts of peach loveliness. There’s going to be a large sum of peach posts over the next couple of days thanks to these beauties. Thanks mummy dearest for the lovely organic peaches, and for all the help picking. It’s such a treat!! Your the best and I love you’re stinking guts! So be on the lookout for the peach raper. She seems nice, but there is an evil side to her. She doesn’t like to share……. but two can play that game. (Just kidding- I’m sure she’s got 300 quarts left over from last year so she doesn’t need any this year right?Good way to justify huh!)