I, too, have memories from my younger days of doing "quality control" visits to various neighbors fruit crops.
There were grapes, peaches, the occasional watermelon.
Those folks never really objected to our sampling of nature's bounty; but then they didn't really know who we were since we never got caught in the act.
Right now is the time of year in Texas when the peach crop would normally come into full production.
It's only out west of here in the Hill Country that the temperatures get cool enough to produce the sweet juicy peaches for commercial sales.
The 'homemade' peach ice cream, cobblers and fresh fruit from the roadside stands out around Fredericksburg are famous enough to inspire the two hour drive from Austin.
This year, strangely enough, we had too much cold.
The temperatures got too cold too late in the season and froze most of the crop while it was still in bud.
Alas, to the great dismay of Central Texas peach lovers there are no Fredericksburg peaches this year.
So much for commercial ingenuity. :rolleyes:
Mother Nature has her ways and there's no way around her.
Except, last week on my way to a house I'm buying in a "less exclusive" part of Austin, very much like the low income neighborhoods I grew up in, I saw a couple of old boys standing underneath an old peach tree growing feral in a vacant lot.
They were picking and eating some smallish, but really good looking, tree ripened peaches.
I made a note of the location.
I'm thinking that the peach crop in that neighborhood might be in need of some "quality control".
Good to know summer's bounty is out there waiting for me.
Hope those old boys left some peaches for the Quality Control Inspector. :p
Thanks, Joe, for the summer memories.
Thanks for the memory that there were some parts of my youth that were as sweet and deliciously clandestine as those summer peaches.
For me it's a needed reminder of the innocent pleasures that I was able to salvage from a time before the untimely killing frost of sexual abuse that blighted the tender buds of my youth.
Sweet mixed with the bitter, like the fruit of the abandoned peach tree that I'm going to go and revisit.
Hope there's no dogs.
With nostalgia and hope,