We have an abused peach tree in our yard.
Abused because it gets water when we remember,
Abused because for the past three years of giving us fruit, we have not thinned said fruit when we should.
For several months, its little branches have been propped up by numerous stakes.
And it continued to ripen the juicy fruit.
We promise to do better next spring, but next spring always comes and we always forget,
Today was the day to finally remove the last of this tree's bounty and prepare it to be enjoyed if it is ever cold here again.
The girls peeled and sliced some of the fruit for a cobbler...their dessert for tonight as well as several more fillings for the freezer,
I set to making a batch of Peach Jam.
It went very easily once I turned the stove off and went to town to get sugar.
My brain has been elsewhere and I completely neglected to check that small fact.
I love canning and wonder at the generations who came before me and stood over bubbling pots with no air conditioning.
I am indeed spoiled.
It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones, after all.