Just Peachy

peaches

On our way back from the cowboy's occupational therapy appointment, early this morning, we came across a vendor, from Idaho, selling peaches.

My early years were spent running through the tall grassy fields and building forts under the pines in Georgia, where much of my family still lives. There isn't a summer of my childhood I do not remember there being peaches in one form or another... jam, preserves, cobbler, etc.

There were endless summer days of chasing lightening bugs, "helping" my grand dad churn home made ice cream, running through clean sheets on the line, being and knowing I was loved and protected by a wonderful family clan. The smell and sight of peaches take me back to those days and all the feelings they invoke are lovely. 

You can learn how to can peaches Here

and Peach Butter Here

@ Stilettos in the Mud: Confessions of a Counterfeit Country Girl


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