peach perfection with Rosie

Not sure how it happened but I feel weird, tested and my glucose was down to 64. The low glucose explained how I felt and the solution was easy. I had just been sitting her thinking about eating one of the two fat, perfectly ripe organic peaches I had bought yesterday. I have a thing for the Sno-Isle peach.  I try to buy small ones but this week, they were all giganatic.

So when could I eat one, I had wondered, when I limited myself to buying only two gigantic peaches? When would I be  able to eat a whole, juicy peach at its peak of perfect juiciness?

And along came my low blood sugar. I ate one, so juicy my face was covered in the juice.

And I think I'll eat the other one, in sacrifice.Gotta keep the glucose up.

I am reminded of the time, in the mid-nineties when I went to the home of a Waldorf teacher who had asked for folks in our school community to help her family unpack as they settled into their new home. Dinner was promised. I had bought a half dozen perfeclty ripened peaches from Michigan at the farmers market that Sunday. The work party was not billed as a potluck but, on my way out the door, I had grabbed my bag of perfect peaches. Perfect peaches don't keep and sharing makes perfect anything more fun.

Buzz, the male host, grilled some manly meat. The wifey teacher made a salad and there was dessert.

My preaches were a big hit, those who missed one happily groused. My daughter had gobbled one and was just about to inhale a secone one when another teacher sighed and said "Oh dear, I didn't get that last peach!"  Rosie, always my perfect child, graciously gave that teacher her peach.

I still remember that woman, who I did not really know, gasp over her pleasure over that peach.

"This is perfectly ripe. Another hour and they would be past perfection."

"Thank you Rosie for giving me the last one."

"This peach is perfection. Why are perfectly ripe peaches such gifts from the gods?"

"Oh my gosh, this is delicious."

Mixed up in the happiness my six peaches has imparted to six lucky winners, with me taking a pass to be kind, I was happy in a simple, mellow way.

It is awesome to score peaches at their moment of perfect perfection. And it is awesome to share six perfectly ripe peaches with six wonderful humans. In my Midwest, peaches are usually shipped from somewhere else, so they are picked hard and do not typically ripen while shipped. Scoring perfectly juicy peaches, with juice delightfully dripping down your chin, is not nearly as common as it is here in Northern Cali. During peach season, I can eat juicily dripping peaches daily. 

I spent my fruit carbs most often on strawberries. One strawberry growers sells strawberries that are vastly superior to any other organic berries at my market. And there are many strawberry vendors. I usually go for the 3 baskets for ten bucks deal but this week, I only bought one basket cause I'm leaving soon on a jet plane.

For no particular reason, I still remember that the peaches had been grown in Michigan. It was the first inkling I had ever had that anything in Michigan might appeal to me. Later I lived there for two years and those six perfect peaches still stand out as my best Michigan-related experience. And I didn't even eat one!

Rosie was my favorite peach eater that day.

I wonder what perfect summer bounty awaits me in Seattle and then Orcas Island?