THIS DAY dawned perfectly — cool, almost completely blue above, and stunning sunshine. This being the rainy season, we often do not dawn sunny, but today we did.
You’ve heard of slow cooking. Well, one of us (not the other) lives a slow life here at the Hacienda. This means nothing much gets done most days, and life tastes better for it. Some people thrive on activity. I am married to one of those people. Others thrive on the slow life. That’s the one she is married to.
But let’s move on to peaches. The peach tree in the yard is loaded. They are starting to drop on the grass, which I do not appreciate because it requires action, the antithesis of the slow life. If anyone in the area wants to pass by the Hacienda, you may have as many peaches as you can tote. Free.
I have a ladder. No charge for its use.
Have to contact me first because we do not answer the bell if we’re not expecting someone. Since the front gate is almost a block from the house, you can see how knee-jerk responding to a doorbell is also the antithesis of the slow life. Be warned, however, that these are not nice Georgia peaches.
To me, they are crappy peaches. They are to nice Georgia peaches what my bananas are to a fine crop from a banana republic. Poor excuses. But they are free. My child bride eats them and declares them passable. She has also eaten grasshopper tacos. Just so you know. Maybe you could make a peach pie.
There is also a pear tree, which is full, and the pears are pretty good. Take a few. The sour orange bush is loaded, and sour oranges serve some purpose, I am told. Take a few of them too.
Now pardon me. It’s time for a nap.