Tuesday, July 02, 2019

Peachy Memories

Sticky summery days beckon us to the sweet juiciness of the fresh fruit department. Boxes, crates and trays of assorted colors, tastes and shapes await our partaking.

This particular visit, my daughter and I were drawn by the peaches - their aroma inviting us closer. The low price per pound was also enticing and we selected fruit by raising it to our noses and inhaling deeply, inspecting for bruises and gently pressing with our fingertips for tenderness.

Purchase made, bagged and transported home - I wanted to let them continue to ripen a few days, so gently placed them in a robin's egg blue colander where they became a work of art and beauty. Their scent sparked a memory from my childhood and I was transported to a charming brick apartment building in St. Louis where we would go visit my Grandma.

The ripening peaches put me in her small kitchen where I knew I would find the book shaped cup saved form my Mom's childhood, chip dip chilling in the fridge, Sara Lee coffee cake in the freezer and, yes, a bowl of fruit on the shelf by a half wall of glass cubes dividing the kitchen and dining room.

My Grandma is a beauty maker and beauty lover like me - or rather I am one like her. Perhaps it is her beauty genes emerging in me now, but everything was always lovely to the eye at her house. Here I knew I would find daisy sheets in the spare room, a drawer with past-their-prime wallets, purses and empty Mary Kay compacts waiting for my sister and I to play with them. Her lavender bedroom with heirloom furniture that I now sleep on every night and the paned windows speaking of a former era where energy efficiency was less promoted.

Then there was the basement - I loved the smooth, cement, echoing stairway leading down to the cool, semi-lit open space for storage and laundry. The smell of the basement was like dryer sheets, an older building, history and treasures waiting to be discovered and I loved it.

The smell of the peaches did all this for me in just a few minutes - one thought leading to the next and I could probably keep going. So when my daughter walks by our burlap and twine colored countertops to comment on how good the peaches smell - I wonder what that will bring to her mind in the future when passes a bowl of ripening peaches?


Anonymous said...

Dearest Monica, Thanks for the sweet memories! I had no idea you had such fond memories of my apt. in St.Louis. I'm failing in my older age at making things beautiful. Perhaps it is my lack of space in my one-room apt. now; perhaps it is my age; but I feel that I fall far short of your compliments on my beauty-making, although I still want it to be that way.
Thanks for the memories! I love you dearly! Grandma

Mom said...

Love these memories of Grandma's former apartment! And I love the scent of peaches. Isn't it true how smells can evoke memories of other times and places? :)

*carrie* said...

Yes, memories! Playing French cafe, too. And for a season, Grandma would buy me Basic 4 cereal. =)