I’m still picking peaches from our trees, and they’re also falling off faster than I can use them. Fifty cups of peaches have been frozen, so I’m expecting our ancient freezer to go out sometime this year (hopefully in winter). Murphy’s Law, you know; it’ll probably give up the ghost in August.

It’s odd how one year a certain fruit or vegetable will proliferate, while another year that very same thing won’t thrive. For some reason this year, the fruit trees went wild. This resulted in shortages on supermarket shelves throughout our part of the state (and perhaps beyond). Sure Jell, Fruit Fresh, canning supplies, jars, lids, and even sugar were difficult — if not impossible — to locate at various times.

I have fond, if hot, memories of my parents making plum and grape jelly.  I remember accompanying them to pick the plums at least once when I was very small, probably too small to do much actual picking. I can definitely conjure up the feeling of intense heat in our kitchen during the creative process.  It was memorable. (And it was the same when they put up pickles a little later in the summer). This was before we had central air and heat.

Zack has fond, childhood memories of helping to rob honey from the bees his grandfather kept. Later, Zack and his father kept a few bees as well. So for years, Zack has talked of having our own bees here at the ranch. There have always been bees in various trees here. But we’ve never “cultivated and managed” them. I rather hoped he’d only talk of this and never actually do it. But oh no, not  Zack. When he plans a thing, it happens.

I was sitting in Zack’s woodworking shop this morning, shelling black-eyed peas I picked from our garden. This is the same garden we painstakingly prepare each year, agonizing over late freezes, then melting in the Texas heat to tend, weed, water, and pick. Between the cost of the plants and seed, the water, wear and tear on equipment, the high fence we built ourselves, and our time; each vegetable ends up costing astronomically more than what might be procured from the supermarket. Is there a difference? Oh yes. And it’s not only the taste and purity; it’s so much more than that.  Besides, you’re able to complain for months about the heat and all the work, such a definite plus.

I’ve heard it said that the most stressful times in a person’s life may be moving, having a child, breaking up or divorce, undergoing construction — or experiencing a death. I’ve often joked that at least one of these things may lead to another.