There's a pretty little peach tree in our backyard that some thoughtful someone planted before we bought our house. Michael and I know nothing about fruit trees, nor do we really have the time or desire to devote to caring for them, so we've pretty much left this little tree to its own business. It's a friendly little tree, and I enjoy looking out the back window and watching its leaves waving back at me.
Despite anything {nothing?} we've done, our tree has mustered up all its fruit-bearing will and produced a small amount of wormy peaches for us two years in a row. Last summer we were able to salvage some pretty decent-sized ones that I froze and made into baby food for Maylin. This year, unfortunately, the worms got to them before we did, and the peaches didn't get very big before falling off the tree.
It made a pretty big mess in the back yard, and while I enjoyed seeing the birds and squirrels eat their fill, I felt it was time to do a little picking up. Hence, peach picking {from the ground}. Inspired by my husband who entertained Maylin with this activity the night before, I laid Hartlie down for a nap, grabbed a bowl, and ushered Maylin out the door.
She was entertained for a little bit, but then decided sitting at the bottom of the slide was more to her liking. I can't say I blame her. And who am I to complain about the perfect spontaneous photo opportunity? Never, never, never complaining about that.
No comments:
Post a Comment