one cling peach and one freestone

Friday July 4th, 2008

Near as I can tell, being thirteen isn’t much different from being twelve. Or eleven. Aunt Kitty still won’t let me flip the pancakes on the hot griddle and Ben still won’t hear of me learning to drive the pickup truck. I even showed him just yesterday how I can reach the pedals and the steering wheel at the same time now, but all he did was shout at Aunt Kitty, who was closest to me at the time, to “Get those keys out of the ignition before she figgers out how ta start it!”

Course, I already know how to start it, but I didn’t figure right then was the best time to say so.

The thing is, I expected to be some smarter at thirteen than I was at twelve. I expected I would finally understand why God made cling peaches even though they’re nothing but trouble and don’t taste nearly as good as a freestone. I expected some privileges too. Thirteen is pretty close to grown up, you know. Ben did convince Aunt Kitty that I might stay up a mite later in the evenings, but I keep falling asleep before I’m meaning to and next thing I know it’s morning and I don’t know the first thing about what happened past my old bedtime.

I followed Pilot all the way to the road today. Aunt Kitty nearly did tan my hide when I got back, but it was worth it. I saw a bright red race car speed by with two girls in the front seat, their long hair whipping like a yellow flag in the wind.

When she was done closing her eyes and taking deep breaths and telling me why it’s not safe for me to go out to the road by myself, Aunt Kitty handed me my apron and told me to gather up some peaches.

“Mind you pick the ripe ones,” she said. Well, the best way I know to determine if a peach is ripe is to take a bite out of it. My tummy was feeling fairly sore by the time my apron was full and Aunt Kitty didn’t say even one word of thanks when I let the peaches roll out on the table. Her eyes scanned the peaches, then they closed for a minute or so, then she looked at me and whispered–yes, whispered, though there’s not a sleeping baby within a hundred miles!–

“To test a peach for ripeness, Tevis, you simply squeeze it gently–” Here her voice rose for a moment and she repeated that word–”GENTLY! If it gives, it is ripe. If it is hard, it is not ripe.”

“Well, I’ll be!” I said. “Want me to get some more?” But she didn’t answer, just stood there shaking her head at the fruit on the table.

I took that to mean no, which was just as well because I had a mind to feel the wind in my hair like those girls in the race car. Ben was busy in the barn doctorin’ up the goats and when I looked, sure enough the keys were right in the ignition like usual.

Now don’t get all worked up about it. I was only going to take that truck to the end of the driveway, turn around and come back. Just far enough to lean my head out the window and feel the wind in my hair. Pilot hopped up beside me and sure enough, Wilbur jumped in too. Well, I’m smart enough to be safe, so I buckled them into one seat belt and me into the other. I turned that key over in the ignition and we all three of us nearly jumped out of our seats at the engine’s roar. Setting my arm across the seat like Ben always does I looked over my shoulder and pressed gently on the pedal. When nothing happened I figured I was being too shy about it. Pilot and Wilbur were looking at me, tongues hanging out the sides of their mouths.

I pressed my foot down harder. That truck thundered so loud Ben came tearing out of the barn, his feet sliding sideways as he turned the corner, barely staying a step ahead of the dust he was stirring up. Turns out there’s more to driving than turning a key and pressing a pedal.

Well, Ben still hadn’t found his voice by evening time. He asked Aunt Kitty to pack a pipe for him and he took himself out to the back porch to set a spell.

While I was watching Aunt Kitty tamp the tobacco I asked her, “How come we have cling peaches when they’re so much trouble?”

“Hmm?”

“You know, they stick to the pit and they don’t taste near as good as a freestone. Why even grow them?”

“Well, they come ripe earlier than the freestones,” she said. “I suppose they make the summer longer.”

The way I see it, I’m two bits smarter now than when I woke up this morning. When I shared this thought with Aunt Kitty she just rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and whispered something like, “Lord help us.”

peaches ‘n’ cream trifle

Sunday July 6th, 2008

Because we’re still elbow-deep in peaches at Frog Creek… INGREDIENTS: 6-8 peaches, peeled, pitted and chopped 2 boxes instant vanilla pudding mix (and manufacturer’s required ingredients to make pudding) 3 eggs 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon vanilla 3/4 cup granulated sugar 3/4 cup buttermilk pancake mix 1 cup whipping cream 1/2 cup powdered sugar First, [...]

one stitch and one moment

Monday July 14th, 2008

Did you ever know a minute that felt like a day? Have you ever had a moment swell up so big that it seemed to swallow the moment before and the moment after too?

See, while most of you have been having breakfast when you should, and supper when you should and sleeping through the night, just like you should, I’ve been stuck here in this one awful moment and it’s the moment I learned Pilot was gone. He ran off sometime in the night and every minute he stays gone I feel more sure he won’t be comin’ back.

My mama used to say bad things come in threes. I know that because Aunt Kitty’s always saying to me, “Now you’re mama always said bad things come in threes”– she says that right before she says, “but I always told her, ‘Katy, that’s just horse puckey. Bad things come and go, and counting ‘em up won’t make ‘em come or go any faster.’”

Still, I think my mama may have been on to something. If I’d've been counting, maybe I’d have taken more care.

The first thing came in the night, a peel of sirens that drew near and then faded, but was enough to stir Pilot and have him wet-nosing me till I let him outside. In the morning we woke to a red sunrise and smoke so thick you could taste it. Ben took out the truck and returned an hour later to say the fire was out on government land and should be out before it caused much trouble.

He barely had a toe to ground when Miss Julia from across the creek came high-tailin’ it up the road. She was hollerin’ and bawlin’ out the window and for a minute I thought all my prayers had been answered and that boy Ezekiel had up and died. I had just a moment to feel a smidgeon of regret before I realized that wasn’t it at all. “Cougar!” she was yelling. Then something about “My goats!” Well, Ben was quicker to catch on than me and he had his rifle and was climbing back in the truck about the time I puzzled out her words.

I guess it was the cougar that got me wondering about Pilot, and it was Wilbur whining and walking in circles around my legs that got me worrying. I still hadn’t tracked him down when Ben returned to tell us we better stick close to the house for a few days, seeing as how that cougar was gone by the time he got there. Miss Julia’s husband, Curtis, was away for the week, and that boy was nowhere to be found, so Ben was heading back straightaway to bury the goat the cougar got.

I’ve hollered for Pilot and I’ve walked circles around the house, but Ben won’t let me wander farther while there’s a cougar nearby. He’s done some poking around too, and drove up the hill aways to ask our neighbors to be on the lookout. Aunt Kitty’s done her share of whistling, but about the time the sun was set to disappear behind the hills she came out on the porch and told me to come inside. Food doesn’t hold much appeal when you’re missing someone and soon enough Aunt Kitty dismissed me from dinner. I poked my head out the window and called again.

“Tevis, dear, come sit,” Aunt Kitty said. Sit! How does a person make her body be still when her mind is a frenzy?

“Can’t,” I said.

“You can,” said Aunt Kitty. “Come here.” She patted her hand on the sofa beside her. She was pulling out my needles and yarn. They’d been away since my birthday.

I sat beside her, and she began to sing while I worked,

“In through the front door

around the back

peek through the window

and out pops Jack!”

My hands couldn’t quite keep up with my head, but they made a great effort.

in the meantime…

Sunday July 27th, 2008

… a little giveaway while I get Frog Creek back in order. We’ve just returned from a little vacation and are so grateful for you being patient with us! Just leave a comment to this post if you’re interested in any of these vintage children’s patterns. I’ll choose a winner or two next Monday. Tevis [...]