One of the magical things I love about living in the suburbs is the peach tree.
I credit my realtor with pointing it out when we first looked at the property back in 2013. At that point, my agriculture knowledge was basically "Vegetables grow outside and that's best." So when we walked outside, he made a comment along the lines of oh, there's a peach tree.
I figured it was ornamental. Because really, who on earth has their very own peach tree and lives just 20 minutes from the city?
That first year, I went away for a conference (to Atlanta, ironically) and came back to find a decent number of cute little peaches.
The second year was the year of the Polar Vortex. Whomp whomp. The poor buds froze before they even had a chance.
The third year, a handful again. Nothing substantial, but hey, I couldn't complain.
Nothing last year. I realized that maybe I was just going to get a harvest every other year. Cool. I could live with that.
This year? OMG. So many peaches.
It is by far the best harvest I've ever had. And indeed, this is the first year that I've seen the branches of the tree actually bend under the weight of all the fruit.
The first Peach Day this year? I picked 50 pounds worth of peaches. In one day, I picked more peaches than I've ever gotten from that tree.
These peaches will basically become my main source of fruit and fruit-related items over the fall and winter (the apple tree isn't quite up to snuff yet). Jam, ice cream, cobbler, and of course, regular frozen peaches.
The new few weekends will be loads of work for sure, but it's worth it.
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