I have a fabulous memory of peach picking when I was little, the well shaped trees and juice dripping down my arms. With car access and farms aplenty I figured Kansas would be the perfect chance to relive this sweetness with P.
Long story short: we were both more jazzed than the run-down orchard deserved. It looked like a combination of tornado devastation and weed heaven. But only I knew the difference. P gaily danced down the branch strewn rows picking un-ripe, pesticide laden peaches :) (Fond memory more important than chemical intake? Ahh, the modern mom's over-informed daily cross to bear :) When we purchased our bucket of pathetic peaches P saw a parcel of blackberries. Remembering Papa had talked up pie he decided these fresh beauties were Necessary.
I never said a word to P about my disappointment. Who know? Maybe he'll remember it as favorably as I did my first orchard experience. And fortunately, the unripe peaches rotted before they ripened and this modern mom didn't have to fret about nasty chemical cocktails after all. Absent his prized peaches, P helped make the blackberry pie and it was delish - so despite my general peach picking defeat I guess we got to have our pie and eat it too:)
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