Our long weekend started off with a call from my mother. The peaches were ripe at her house would Little e like to pick them? The answer, a resounding yes.

The peach tree is on it's last legs. It cracked something terrible a month ago and is held off the ground with strategically placed planks. The fruit has a pale, almost green flesh with small bits of red around the stone. My Mum loves to eat them one half at a time, with breakfast and dessert, and so was reluctant to cut it down until after the fruit was ripe. This leaves us with a tree that is at just the right height for little hands to pick.

I love watching Little e make the connections about where her food comes from. When we picked the first broccoli she plucked it from the bowl and took off to show her Dad. It really does look like the stuff that ends up on her plate. It was the same when she was shown the peaches on the tree last week. All we could do was restrain her from picking the not ripe fruit. Today she got her chance.

We celebrated peach picking by promptly eating some, freshly picked and sliced.