peach pie

Selling peaches was my how I made some pocket money. Two summers earlier momma had come up with a plan after she caught me spending day after day lying out in the peach orchard reading that if I kept the trees healthy, pruning them and treating them with care I could keep the sum of money I made at the roadside stand at the edge of our driveway.

I was so happy to have the peaches as my responsibility. Being in the orchard made me feel like dancing and singing, which I oft did to the growing peach blossoms. And when the summer season brought the tourists I loved the conversations they brought to my world.

When I passed the first crop of trees I smiled and ran my fingers down the bark of each tree. Yesterday momma had wanted to make peach pie so I set out and picked a whole basket full of delicious ripe peaches for the pie and another basket to sell. I helped momma with the pie when I came back from my day outside and together we made a dough-mess in the kitchen, but it was okay because it was a laugh-mess.

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