It is the end of peach season, my cousin tells me. This is why he only has one lug of peaches for me. Then he puts two in my car. The second one, he says, can’t be sold because the fruit is just past its prime. I can’t see any difference and I suspect he is pulling a fast one on me. It wouldn’t be the first time. He won’t accept any money for the peaches.
Somehow, a half dozen tomatoes ended up traveling home with me, too. And a large bag of unshelled almonds that I picked in the orchard just as the sun was starting to set.
I love my family. They’re generous and fun and talented. And I’m terribly lucky that they’re also farmers.