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Peaches bring back memories of teenage years when members of our church, in the area, would go out to Little Rock to the Peach Farm and pick peaches. Those peaches would be taken to the cannery where other members would can the fruit and then those cans were placed in the hands of those who needed it. The treat on those peach harvesting days was eating a tree ripened peach warmed by the sun. Over the past few years I haven't eaten many peaches. The fruit in the stores are picked so early and don't taste quite right. But this year I relented and purchased some peaches from a local produce store and when they ripened I wasn't disappointed. They were delicious.
I normally crave just the fresh fruit in its simplicity, but this year I couldn't stop thinking about making a peach pie. When the idea first came to light in my mind I didn't have enough ripe peaches so I had to go out and purchase more. And wait. For them to ripen.
Once they did I the weather decided to cool down out of the upper 90s, which was perfect for a baking day. I set up my work station in the kitchen and My Sweet Pea set up hers at the breakfast bar. She brought her cross stitch project and laptop and together worked on our projects while we watched/listened to Drop Dead Diva on Netflix.
Handling the utensils and seeing the ingredients come together are very satisfying.
At least, I forget the way the dough feels when it's ready or the smell of the spices when the seasoning is just right.