Just Peachy

 When you've grown up in southeastern Michigan as my husband and I have, there are certain elements connected to the change of seasons that become an indestructible part of your genetic make-up.  For instance, eleven months out of the year, I can pass by peaches in any grocery store in the country without even a passing thought.  But as soon as mid-August rolls around, I can't get the thought of fresh peaches out of my mind.  And peach pie, peach ice cream, peach cobbler.  You get the idea.  Even more important, these peaches must come from Romeo, Michigan.  Anything else goes against my upbringing.  It was indeed fortunate timing then that earlier this week I had to drive back to Michigan for some name change paperwork and to pick up a few straggling items that didn't make it in the first round of moving.  My mom accompanied me out to Romeo, and we stopped at one of my favorite orchards, Westview, to do some exploring at their roadside stand.  (Incidentally, I've noticed a serious lack of roadside fruit/vegetable stands in Ohio.  I drive through endless farms along I-75.  Endless.  But not a stand selling their products anywhere in sight.  What gives?)  We got a bit wrapped up in all the goodies they had to offer: jams, jellies, butters, salsas, sauces, breads, tarts, and ice creams in addition to the plethora of fresh fruits and vegetables.  In the end, we got a bushel of fresh peaches each, and I got a jar of peach grilling sauce.  I've been enjoying the fresh peaches with breakfast, lunch, and snacks for a few days now, and I can't wait to start cooking up some peachy treats!