August 9, 2015
(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every
day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)
I am lucky being married to a man who likes to shop
and to cook. And, since he doesn’t like the way I load the dishwasher, he also
cleans up the kitchen. When he goes to the grocery store, he takes his time and
his coupons. We always have fresh fruit in our kitchen, fruit that has been
thoughfully examined—first with the eye, then with the hands and the nose. Once
it passes these sensory tests—and if the price is not too high—then it comes
home.
My mother, also, used to closely examine fruit
that came down our back alley with the calls of the Baltimore A-rabbers. She
insisted on the best or she would send the A-rabber on his way. In those days
when peaches were my favorite fruit, we could get them only when they were in
season in our area. Today, however, peaches are picked way too soon and shipped
way too far. It is sometimes difficult to find a peach that doesn’t taste like
cardboard—I’d rather eat no peaches than to eat peach-flavored cardboard.
Sitting on our kitchen counter right now are nine
peaches, hand-selected by David who has instructed me how to eat them. I must
start with the peaches on the left and then move on to the right. If I read the
peaches that way, then each one should be perfect.
My
gift today is husband-picked peaches .
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I love you guys.
ReplyDeleteRight back at you! :)
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