It was September when we arrived and we looked out into the backyard and there was a peach tree – a fully-loaded peach tree. I had no idea such a thing could thrive in downtown Halifax but there it was.
We had to settle in to our new home but – as we’ve learned since, every Fall – when peaches are ready to be picked, you’ve gotta pick them.
That year, our first experience as peach-tree-owners, we picked – this is the truth – 30 dozen peaches. We had bowls and basins overflowing with them.
They were delicious and we ate lots of them but it soon became obvious that we’d have to start processing and preserving. Thus began our long and ongoing relationship with the peach and all its many possibilities.
When I came downstairs this morning, Dan was quite far along in extracting juice to make peach jelly. We made it for the first time last year and I think we’ll now happily add it to our all-time list.
A few days ago, Dan had already made peach conserve, a delicious preserve that includes, besides peaches, chopped oranges with peel, almonds, candied ginger and spices. We’ve made conserve before and it’s always a favourite.
Over the years, we’ve also made a variety of peach jams, chutney and spiced whole peaches. The chutney is delectable and I often serve it at Thanksgiving and Christmas, with the turkey dinner. Of course, we also serve it with curries and it goes nicely with the tourtière on Christmas Eve.
The demise of our peach tree is predicted every year – it’s pretty old for a fruit tree, apparently – but it’s still going strong. It has good years and other not-so-good years although I don’t think we’ve ever missed a year of preserving. It’s just that some years we do more than others.
So we’ll continue to give it tender loving care; we’ll prune it when necessary and prop it up with the step ladder when its branches get too heavy to hold themselves up. We’ll try to keep the clothes on the line from catching on the branches and we’ll fertilize responsibly.
We’ll do our best for the peach tree and after all this time, we’ll surely go into mourning when its fruitfulness comes to an end.
Sharon the jar of peach jam you gave me, when my mother died, stood like a sentinel at eye level on my fridge shelf for some weeks, always giving me temporary relief from my grief with the promise of it's sweet delicious taste. I never forgot it or the delicious banana bread.
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