My family stopped there a lot. The peaches were delicious—juicy, plump, and sweet—the best I’ve ever tasted. Occasionally, we met my Grandma and Grandpa there and somehow, in my mind, peaches got associated with my Grandma. It probably didn’t help that once when my grandparents picked up my brother and I for an overnight visit we stopped there on the way to their house. I remember my Grandma peeling and cutting up the peaches for us, while my Grandpa frowned and shook his head, muttering that she should just give us the peaches, we’d learn to eat them like everyone else in the world had. (Hmm. Starting to see why everybody says I remind them of my Grandpa). To this day, I think of my Grandma every time I eat a peach.
We moved from the area when I was six and while I have been back there a few times, I’ve never gotten another peach out of one of those baskets. In fact, the last time I was there, the place had changed—and quite drastically. Sadly, there were no shade trees. They had been cut down. Nearby was a convenience store. While I’m sure the store was air-conditioned, I missed the shade trees. And there were no peaches. Well, that’s not true. The sign outside said they sold peaches but that’s just not the same.
I still haven’t tasted a peach like the ones I got back then. I’ve tried to find one and while some are good they just don’t compare. Maybe it’s because my grandma didn’t peel it and cut it up. ~
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.