Postscript to Peaches

Mom 1969 - before any of us came along

Dear Mom,

I remember as a kid being conscripted into canning duty during the summer months (along with all of my siblings) because I was raised by a mother who couldn't STAND to let perfectly good fruit & vegetables go to waste. Peaches were about the worst of all the things we put into jars. It was hot work scalding peaches in boiling water, the fuzz stuck all over and itched, and without exception I seemed to ruin whatever shirt I was wearing from the juice and the soupy, peachy water in the sink where we worked cutting & peeling. I inherited the intolerance for wasted food. And now the smell of simmering peaches at canning time is one of the most comforting to me. This week you made sure you were here to help put away this year's crop - either because you just like to bottle peaches - or because you felt sorry for a mother of 5. Thanks for the help. Even more thanks for teaching me when I was younger. * I wish that I had a picture of one of those sticky canning days, somehow we never got around to photographing it. This is probably because all your children were making life miserable for you while we worked. It would be funny to see the looks of disgust. *

Love,

Daughter #2