I’ve recently discovered that living in California is like winning the summer fruit lottery — why doesn’t everyone live here? It’s not even June yet, but the peaches! The cherries, the blueberries, the plums, the apricots, the peaches! Ripe and fragrant, everywhere you turn. In May! What is this sort of wizardry?
Whatever it is, I’m on board. I mean, Ben and I drove two hours to go peach picking over Memorial Day weekend, and consequently have somewhere upwards of fifteen pounds of quickly ripening peaches sitting in a cardboard box on the kitchen countertop. Thinking about this makes me anxious, so let’s please talk about the apricots, instead.
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