One last bit of summer

My offspring have been impatiently awaiting the ripeness of peaches. They came to our door last Wednesday in our bi-weekly produce box from an orchard in B.C., lovely of colour, but firm of flesh. I showed the kids how to check if they're ready, and those poor fruits have been frequently squeezed and sniffed ever since.

Last Monday, I found the skin broken on one peach and an overly fuzzy dot on another, so I washed them up and set to slicing. I grabbed this little egg cup to catch the bad spots, thinking the two that I'd originally noticed was all that was wrong. Unfortunately, I'd underestimated my son's hand-strength: there were deep dents along both peaches, just the diameter of four-year-old finger tips.

My egg cup overflowed with the bruises beneath them, but stood up beautifully to the task. Sometimes, even garbage can be lovely. And the peach-flesh beneath was lovelier still.

Enjoy your last fruits, in whatever state you find them.


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