My parents have a few fruit trees on their property, and while the apple tree has really yet to provide anything really amazing, the peach tree is almost always overly abundant. The branches have literally hit the floor as the weight from all the fruit drags them down, it looks like a weeping peach tree. So my parents always let anyone and everyone come and pick them, and this year, although Eric only likes fresh peaches, we grabbed some and I made some jam and canned it. I'm thinking maybe eventually it will be good on pancakes or in some sort of peach tart or something. I'm sure Eric will never eat it, he's weird, and doesn't like fruity desserts . . . . which I LOVE! So this makes me sad because either I don't end up making cobbler and get sad, or I end up makign the cobbler and eating the entire thing by myself and this also, obviously, makes me sad.
Well, while we were picking peachs with my mom and Grandma Lewis we turned around and Preslie was just eating a peach. Just standing there, holding a peach that hadn't been washed, that she'd probably picked up off the ground, fuzzy skin still on and all, taking bites and chomping them up. It was hilarious and ridiculously cute. I wish that we had our camera to take a picture of it. She probably ate four of them while we were up there talking and picking. I doubt if the ones she was eating were even very ripe, but she still chowed away, eating all the way down to the pit.
When we got home and the next couple of days were peeling and cutting them all up for jam, she kept comign up to us at the kitchen sink and saying "SOME!!!" yelling and stretching her hand out. So we set her up at the table and gave her one. I just love how she decided to eat it.
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