Michelle Crawford

summer afternoons






Peach farms, blueberry picking and cherry pip spitting. These are the highlights of our summer afternoons right now.
The first tray of white peaches brings with it the dilemma of what to do with them. Do we make jam, or preserve them, or perhaps make a peach pie? I decide it’s best to eat every one of them standing over the sink, with peach juice running down our chins. I’ll leave the cooking until the heat wave passes. Along with peaches there are blueberries, and we're lucky to have several friends who own blueberry farms that let us come and pick them. We lazily tackle the sweet job of picking the tart berries by the bucket load, before pondering the same question again, do we make jam, crumble, cordial or just eat them as they are fresh out of the bucket under the shade of the trees. The blueberries disappear before I even answer that question.
Cherries of course, need to be eaten in the car, bought on the on the way to the beach, from a roadside stall set up for the all too short season. Pips are spat out the window, so long as the coast is clear, in the hope that a cherry tree may spring up in its place.
Preserving jars are washed and waiting, but still, I’m not ready to pack any fruit in a jar for winter's pantry just yet. Maybe next week. We'll keep scoffing as the fruit as it comes for now.
Summer afternoons spent eating too much fruit in the shade. Just the way we like it.

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