Peachy Keen

I live in the Peach State, even though Georgia actually is third in the nation for peach production, behind California and South Carolina. Whatever. We're the ones with peaches on our license plates. Imagine how excited I was when I moved in with Hot Pants and discovered the very lovely tree in our front yard was, in fact, a peach tree! I had visions of making homemade peach pie and canning peaches for the winter and doing all sorts of homespun peach things with the peaches because they are peachy.

Fast forward a few months to when the tree started to actually produce peaches. Did you know peach trees produce too many peaches, so you have to constantly thin your crop or you'll end up with tiny, nubby peaches instead of gorgeous juicy ones like you see at the grocery store? Yeah, um, it's really fun spending time each afternoon picking tiny little peach buds off a tree in your front yard. Woot.

We did the best we could, but by the middle of the summer, the tree's branches were sagging under the weight of its fruit. Add in a two-year-old drought, and what you have on your hands is a bunch of broken branches. Not just one or two branches, but, like, entire hunks of the tree just ripped right off. The tree just gave the hell up. And the peaches looked like sad little golf balls.

That's when we decided to trot off across the country on a nine-day vacation, leaving our miserable little peach tree to fend for itself. About three days in, we got a call from our next-door neighbor, Julie. A lady and her five children had pulled up in front of the house and started loading trash bags full of our peaches. Despite threats from Julie that the police would be involved if they didn't leave, the woman continued harvesting our fruit. I was livid. If that woman had come by when we were home, knocked on the door and asked for some peaches, I would have gladly given her as many as she could carry. It's a terrible economy, and folks have got to help each other out. But to just take them? That's bullshit. Sure enough, when we got home, what few peaches were left were rotten.

This year comes along, and the drought is over and the tree looks healthy and I'm all "We're gonna have peaches!" I carefully thinned our crop, thinking of all the wonderful things I could make with the fruit. Long about mid-May, we noticed gnawed on little ball-like things all over our back deck. Yep. Squirrels. Motherfuckers ate every last one of our peaches and left the evidence on the back deck, just in case we didn't feel the sting of the theft enough. There is not a single goddamn peach on that tree and the season isn't even half over! Fucking rodents.

So far, it's:

Thieves and rodents - 2

CB - 0