It is peach season here, and it has been a bad year for peaches, with many of the trees producing very little because of a freeze or wind or something. My dad had an orchard that he sold, which he now leases, and he has been keeping cows in it, so they have eaten every peach they could reach, also.
I went out to pick very early in the morning yesterday so Sara and I could bottle the few peaches that are left. I was a little worried about the cows, because I would have to hold my bucket in the tree with me or up high so they couldn't stick their heads in the bucket while I picked. When I got there, I did not see any cows. That was a huge relief, and I assumed Dad must have moved them. I left a laundry basket on the ground right where I started picking so I could dump my ice cream buckets of peaches into it.
I wore long sleeves in case there were mosquitoes, and there were. The long sleeves were not enough. Mosquitoes totally swarmed my face and hands, and I saw three or four on each hand at a time, draining me dry like the little vampires they are. I looked down at my jeans and saw 20 or so on each leg. I kept slapping my hands, and even left a dead one on my sleeve to scare them away, but to no avail. They started buzzing in my ears, too, and I was afraid I might go crazy like those people you hear about who get a bee in their ear.
I decided it would be worth it to drive all the way home to get bug spray. This meant 20 minutes of picking time loss, when I was in a hurry to get home before Alex left for work. As I got out to shut the gate, I looked back at my basket of peaches, and a nefarious bovine had been hiding nearby, waiting for the right moment. He was headed straight for my precious peaches!
"DAMMIT YOU STUPID COW!" I yelled, as I ran to rescue my peach gold.
Luckily, I arrived in time, and Sara and I bottled 21 quarts yesterday, and plan to finish bottling tomorrow.
Apparently that is my favorite swearword because I have said it twice in the last five years. Both times, peaches were involved.
As a side note, if you have a fruit tree, and do not have a pole picker.
I got one at a freight salvage a few years ago, and I knew my life would never be the same. And it hasn't.