It's been a long time since a post and that's because of CHANGE. My brain can only handle so much of it at a time. Change makes me think and react and stay on-task round the clock.
I guess most of the change has to do with Ellie being back on this side of the Atlantic. But it also has to do with Bill's healing which is now taking place at a great rapid pace. He is working out at the Wellness Center again and, today, he actually played golf, alone and in the rain, but he was exhilarated by the time we connected back at home.
Here's the big news, as of tomorrow, Bill and I celebrate our 22nd wedding anniversary on August 19. We have grown through many changes in those years. Some with much finesse and smoothness and others with, well, tentativeness (to make it sound like the high road). Nonetheless, we are celebrating all 22 years and our current happiness with life. Cheers to us!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Peaches
When I was a little girl, my sister and I would visit our great aunt in Chattanooga during the heat of the summer. Aunt Judy would take us anywhere we wanted to go, including the park, the drive-in burger joint, the movies, and on and on.
The most familiar scent I remember from those deep south summers was the smell of peaches riding along with us in the heat of Aunt Judy's Buick. She always seemed to have peaches in the car from a friend or a stand. These were not the small to medium peaches we typically get in the Shenandoah Valley today. Giant, juicy Georgia peaches rode with us, usually in a brown paper bag. Were they giant or was I just small? At any rate, as we jumped in the baking car, hot peaches would waft through the air. I remember feeling comforted by the pungent air, excited to see where our next adventure would take us.
Today one of my favorite summertime activities is peeling peaches standing at my kitchen sink. Of course, I am always reminded of Aunt Judy's hot peach car, but also because peeling peaches is a deliberate, focused task. There is no way to hurry. If you choose to peel too soon, you're stuck with no juicy, meaty fruit. If you choose the perfect peach to peel, the skin slides right off between your knife and your thumb. Peeling is a good time to slow down and think and smell and breathe....peaches.
The most familiar scent I remember from those deep south summers was the smell of peaches riding along with us in the heat of Aunt Judy's Buick. She always seemed to have peaches in the car from a friend or a stand. These were not the small to medium peaches we typically get in the Shenandoah Valley today. Giant, juicy Georgia peaches rode with us, usually in a brown paper bag. Were they giant or was I just small? At any rate, as we jumped in the baking car, hot peaches would waft through the air. I remember feeling comforted by the pungent air, excited to see where our next adventure would take us.
Today one of my favorite summertime activities is peeling peaches standing at my kitchen sink. Of course, I am always reminded of Aunt Judy's hot peach car, but also because peeling peaches is a deliberate, focused task. There is no way to hurry. If you choose to peel too soon, you're stuck with no juicy, meaty fruit. If you choose the perfect peach to peel, the skin slides right off between your knife and your thumb. Peeling is a good time to slow down and think and smell and breathe....peaches.
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