An Offerring

There are so many things to do with fresh peaches. The problem is, this far from the lovely town of Gaffney SC, I rarely have enough peaches to do more than eat them one at a time over the sink with juice running down my forearm and dripping off my chin. In case anyone is wondering, the runaway juices are the telltale sign of a good peach.

I have a friend who is blessed with two mature peach trees. There are more peaches ripening each day than she, family, and friends can gather. As such, putting up a ladder to pluck from the high places involves dodging or destroying the many peaches that are in the process of becoming one with the earth.

My bare arms reached into the branches, gently pulled a peach, and hoped the removal of the one wouldn't precipitate the plummeting of the many. I didn't know peach leaves got inside your skin and caused prickly itching. We gathered more than four grocery bags full in no time flat. We divided them unevenly according to who thought they would use the most.

Not surprisingly, I took home two full grocery bags. Two pies, homemade ice cream, the vision of one cobbler, and much leaning over the sink later I am down to the last third of my stash. And I'm hoping that if I help my friend clean tomorrow, I can come away with another arm load full of the precious fruit loot.