Skip to main content

The Hardworking Southern Peach Farmer vs. Early-Spring Enthusiasts

The Hardworking Southern Peach Farmer vs. Early-Spring Enthusiasts:
A Crisis of Conscience and Fruit (AKA: The Essay Not GOOD ENOUGH for McSweeney's)
 
Recently across the Carolinas, we’ve experienced a spate of warm, spring-like weather.  This occurrence isn’t uncommon for this fairly mild winter area, but it still brings the joy of surprise every year.  There’s nothing quite like the joy of wearing flip-flops in February!  However, not everyone revels in the mirth of the early spring.  Especially farmers.  Particularly peach farmers.  Being that I have the rare opportunity to consult and talk with peach farmers on a regular basis (quite the coup, I know) I’ve come to expect just what they’ll say in the course of a typically mundane discussion about weather:
 
Me: How ‘bout this weather we’re having?  Pretty mild for February, huh?
 
Peach Farmer: Sure is.  Not good for the peaches though, I’ll tell you what.
 
This discussion, while ending benevolently, always leaves me feeling a bit bereft and dare I say, guilty.  How dare I yearn for the early spring that Punxatawny Phil sometimes promises?  How could I expect those early jonquils across Southern lawns?  All the while the hardworking peach farmers are fretting over the demise of their crops?  How selfish of me!  These thoughts prey on my mind and begin to pepper my thoughts like peach slivers on a fresh summer arugula salad. 
 
Coworker:  Isn’t this weather fabulous?  I may sunbathe this weekend!
 
Me: Yes, but it’s no good for the peaches!  Don’t you want peaches this summer?  Don’t you???
 
After a few of these conversations, I notice that friends and acquaintances begin avoiding me on the topic of weather.  It has become touchier than the recent elections! 
 
Friend: Girl, don’t you love this warm weather?  I’ve been wearing sandals to work this week!
 
Me: Sure, but I hope you like those sandals more than you like peaches!  You do like peaches, don’t you?  Don’t you?????
 
Once the weather conversations have come to an instantaneous halt, I have to get creative.  I must help save the peaches!  Don’t people know about the peaches?  What about the peaches?
 
Waiter: And what kind of dressing for your salad, ma’am?
 
Me: Salad?  Salad, sir?   You ask me about salad?  Do you care nothing of the peaches? 
 
I have to find new restaurants!  I have to find new friends!  I have to find a new yoga instructor, employer, grocery check-out clerk, webmaster, dog walker, babysitter and arborist!  (Actually, the arborist is quite understanding of my peach concerns.  We’re talking about an autumn engagement.)
 
My mother: Your father is considering opening the pool early what with this early spring.
 
Me: Really, mother?  Really?  Haven’t you done enough to stunt me by making me take that tap class when I was 10?  Do you care nothing of the peaches, mother? 
 
My therapist tries to help.  My mechanic tries.  My guru, my 3rd grade teacher, my cube mate, my UPS delivery guy. 
 
Older lady waiting on bus stop bench:  Beautiful weather, isn’t it, dear?  I do fret about the peaches though.
 
Finally, finally, someone understands.  If you need me, I’ll be at Ms. Doris Lawson’s home at 83 West Peachtree Street in Gaffney.  She gets it.  She is on fire for the peaches like me.  Our friendship may look unusual to some, but it is forged in the fire and comradery of fruit.  I hope you’ll visit us in July.  There will be pie.....well......here's hoping!

(P.S. No hard feelings to McSweeney's.  Well, maybe some.)
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

Reclaiming Your Childhood: Priceless

 This story might take a minute to tell. Bear with me. When my sister and I were little girls, my mother took us to a large baptist church in town. Even as a child, I never remember feeling welcome there.  But I do remember the lovely older couple that kept my Sunday School class. They gave us saltines and kool-aid, and I remember thinking they would be nice grandparents to have. At Christmastime, the Sunday School class was set to have a random gift exchange. Every child was supposed to bring a gift that could be exchanged with any other child.....no specific gift designations.  I received the gift of an Avon 7 bead necklace which was very popular at the time.  I loved it so much and was thrilled to have it!  I was somewhere between 5 and 7 at the time. (Back in the 1970's and 80's, Avon was a cosmetic company that was also known for it's inexpensive jewelry.  I couldn't find a price on what this necklace would have cost back then, but apparently there is ...
Post a Comment
Read more

My Week with Rumor

 My dog Rumor was an experiment.  A trial offer.  And all parties knew that going in.  Except for maybe Rumor. Rumor was an outdoor country dog.  His given name was Ruger (named after a firearm if you don't know, I didn't) which made sense for a dog raised in hunting country.  He was a stray that came to live with a loving family at about the age of 1.  He lived outdoors, slept in a garage crate at night, frolicked with an older dog pack and had a lovely life. We think he was about 4 years old.  He had been neutered, had vet care and was by no means a "rescue". His dad offered Ruger to me on a give-it-a-try basis.  He knew I wanted a dog. He told me Ruger would be sweet to me and also be my protector.  He was right on both counts.  He told me if it didn't work out, I could bring Ruger back to him and his wife.  I could tell they were a little sad when they dropped him off.  It made me glad to see that Ruger came from such ...
Post a Comment
Read more

NYE for $200, Alex

 Can we all just agree that New Year's Eve is the worst of the string of winter holidays?  I would even go so far as saying it's THE WORST of all the holidays.  I loved when Stanford Blatch defined a party as feeling very "forced festive".  To me, most NYE parties feel that way.  The idea that this is a big year-end blow-out and we'd all damn well better make it awesome! The reason I hate NYE is because it combines two of things I most hate about celebrations: cold weather and crowds.  Plus it's during a time of year when everyone has already spent all their money.  AND you usually have to the leave the house.  ADDITIONALLY, you have to stay up late.  It's a big F.U. from me on all this.   I would dare say that some of my happiest New Year's memories have been spent at home in my pajamas with either my child, an S.O. or happily alone.  I remember one unforgettable year of moving into a 3rd floor apartment on NYE.  I rememb...
Post a Comment
Read more