As a kid, I grew up pickling and canning and shucking and hulling. In fact, that’s where my deep love for Star Trek comes from.
Every summer day at 5 p.m., my mom would turn the TV on to Star Trek (the original; I am that old) and we would sit together and snap beans or shell peas. It’s one of my most vivid and cherished childhood memories. (Except when the “Doomsday Machine” episode came on. They always played that one, never “Trouble with Tribbles.”)
Then, as summer moved into the real dog days, late August, we would head to the Palisade, Colo., orchards to buy bushels of peaches. Fresh off the trees peaches. Juice-running-down-your-face peaches. Continue reading