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August 17, 2008

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robin bird

ahhhhhh yes! the smell of fresh peaches ready for harvesting. i could inhale it all day, wear it as perfume, use it to wash my face, my laundry, eat them morning, noon and night. pet their fuzzy bellies like a babies' bottom. the color of a perfectly ripe peach is enough to make me cry.

i remember living on the property of a peach orchard in Southern Illinois when i was first married in 1972. we rented a 15 foot uninsulated trailer that was a cast off of the migrant workers who came to pick each august. the days were regularly in the 90's (Fht) with about 50% humidity and it was hot, hot in that happy little trailer. i remember the day i ate my first perfect peach picked right from the tree. it was a gift from the farmer's daughter who brought it over in a paper sack for us to try. it was warm, ripe and the juice just dripped right down my front. i will never ever forget the way i felt when i bit into that peach. like i lived in heaven even though it had to be about as hot as hell in that cozy pile of scrap metal.
xo

Wayfaring Wanderer

Those guys are behind the scenes in a lot of places.....most people don't care enough to notice.....but you did.......

My company provides workers for surrounding golf courses....it breaks my heart to know that they are away from their families for such a long period of time, but there isn't another way for them to make this sort of money where they are from.....They are such hard workers.......

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