Skip to main content

Inner beauty~


I picked peaches from the tree in our backyard yesterday. The tree was loaded with flowers this spring, all of which heralded a peach when they faded and dropped.

There were so many potential peaches that we sacrificed some for the good of the harvest. If all the peaches had been left to grow, they would have been small. Compare the size of a single newborn baby to the size of a quintuplet.

The tree still produced lots of peaches-- medium sized ones. Next year we'll be tougher in the winnowing process. I'd rather produce 100 pounds of large peaches than 100 pounds of small ones.

The fruit wasn't perfect. Some hung from the branches, showing a rosy cheek, deceitfully hiding their black, speckled side. Others were plain ugly all over with split skin because their inside grew faster than the outside.

The black spots are a fungus that could have been prevented with a fungicide spray. But for an organic peach, I can stand a little skin-deep ugliness.

As I peeled more than a dozen peaches, I recalled my grandmother's words: "beauty is only skin deep."

She lived with us from the time I was nine, and taught me early on that the thin veneer of beauty is of no value if there isn't any beneath the skin. And conversely, there is no such thing as "ugly" if there is inner beauty.

Once peeled, the peaches were glistening and golden, sweeter and tastier than a supermarket peach.

I made peach crisp, adapting the apple crisp recipe, all the while popping wedges of fruit in my mouth. I mixed the topping-- brown sugar, flour oatmeal and butter-- just as tasty as the peaches.

I mowed the lawn while it baked, and sampled some as soon as I knew I wouldn't burn my tongue.

Absolutely delicious! With vanilla ice cream melting into the peach juice it will be . . . deliciously beautiful.

I don't know why beauty got such attention from my grandmother, but another saying she often repeated was "beauty is as beauty does."

This one didn't make sense to me as a child, but I understood it clearly today. The beauty of these peaches wasn't in how they looked, but rather, what they did. And what they did was make a tasty peach crisp.

I finished what was left for breakfast this morning, a beautiful way to start the day.

Comments

Janice Thomson said…
Oh I would love a peach tree in my yard. It is such a delicious fruit...and my mouth is watering at that small bowl of crisp :) I totally agree that homegrown tastes so much better than store bought. I dislike it when they use Co2 to make them ripen. It changes the texture and taste so much.
Heather said…
yum!! i'm jealous...
Voyager said…
I'm so envious of your peach tree. Here on the wet coast peaches don't grow well, but they thrive in the interior of the province. We usually vacation there at least once every summer, and bring back a big basket of peaches which I turn into jam and pies. But this year we can't go. Enjoy your bounty.
V.
Ruth L.~ said…
Janice~ The problem with crisp of any kind is that I really like the topping even better than the fruit.

Heather~ Some day you'll have a peach tree . . . maybe.

Voyager~ I should make jam. I should do a lot of things that I don't. :>)
Jo said…
I had a wonderful bowl of peaches this afternoon, with just a bit of brown sugar and some cream. I was in Heaven. I think peaches are my favorite fruit. They smell like summer mornings, don't they?
Ruth L.~ said…
Josie~ I woke up to your comment. Guess what I'll have for breakfast on this summer morn. Mmmmm.

Popular posts from this blog

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We...

Killing time~

I'd woken feeling stuffy headed, slightly allergy-ish, puffy-eyed, and a tad grumpy. Lots to do, little time in which to do it, school issues keeping me in a state of angst, I considered not going to David's game. But it was Saturday, the game fairly close to home-- Salem State College-- an hour or so north through Boston to the town of Salem, famous for the 1692 witch trials that saw 19 suspected witches, many of them social outcasts, hang on Gallows Hill. A change of pace was what I needed whether I wanted it or not, so I went. I squeezed in a walk around the block that enclosed Salem State's O'Keefe Center while waiting for the game to begin. Just to kill time. I get so few chances to do that. Others walking, too, passed with no eye contact, no greetings, just sharing the same planet. Two were coming toward me. Still unfocused in the distance . . . one was tall, the other short . . . two men . . . loose clothing . . . like army clothes, camouflage . . . beard and lon...

Missing Becky~

Becky~ August 19, 1991 to April 26, 2010 She was so loved, this gentle pet of mine.  And how she loved us back. I've been alone in my house before, of course. Those days when my husband took the kids out for the day, being able to vacuum without a baby in one arm and a toddler, riding the vacuum cleaner like it was a bronco, was solitary pleasure. Later there were quiet days as the kids were at camp and my husband at work. And then came the bittersweet aloneness when kids left home for college and a life apart. Still, I'd always liked being alone, knowing it was short lived. This morning, after my husband pulled out of the driveway with a day full of plans,  I stood in the living room feeling alone in a way I never had before.  An unfamiliar emptiness and silence surrounded me. Yesterday we put our 18-year-old cat, Becky, to sleep. The decision to do so was surprisingly easy. The vet had told us Becky would let us know when it was time, and somehow she did. But ...