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rejectomorphTonight I will devour the last of the peaches from my tree. Despite my vigilance, the birds got more of them than I did, though I suppose that's fair. There's only one of me, after all, while the birds are many. I could complain about the fact that the birds contribute nothing toward paying for the water the tree used to grow the peaches, but then three birds did feed my cat, reducing my cat food bill, so I'll call that even.
This year's peaches were not the best the tree has ever produced, but they were almost as good as the best I've gotten from the store this season. A bit of sugar and some cream makes them tasty enough to bring a bit of additional pleasure to a balmy summer night. Farewell, home-grown peaches. I'll see you again next summer, if the tree and I are both still here then.
This year's peaches were not the best the tree has ever produced, but they were almost as good as the best I've gotten from the store this season. A bit of sugar and some cream makes them tasty enough to bring a bit of additional pleasure to a balmy summer night. Farewell, home-grown peaches. I'll see you again next summer, if the tree and I are both still here then.
