Today, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I ate a red plum.
When I bit into it, the juice squirted everywhere, running down my chin. And the taste and the texture and the smell all came rushing back to me. I used to love plums. My grandmother had a plum tree in her yard. It made tiny plums, but they were sweet and juicy. I imagine that my mom had to scrub more than a few of my shirts to try and get the stains out. (Sorry about that, Mama.)
Even though I still see that same plum tree often, I had forgotten about those tasty little plums it made. I forgot about climbing up in that tree with my brother and my cousins. I forgot about smooshing the rotten ones between my toes. (Very theraputic, actually. Maye I should start that as a spa trend. It’s better than this idea.)
So that’s my tasty memory. I know I’m not the only one. What nectarous nostalgia do you have?
Peaches make me feel the same way. My grandma had a peach tree in her yard and I loved eating them off the tree. She had a plum tree too and you are right there is nothing like smooshing them between your toes.
If I smell peaches in the grocery store, I must go smell them and this past grocery store trip I bought some and enjoyed watching Rhett eat them with the juice all over his face. So funny!
I remember the same smushy plums at Mama Jo’s.
If you like plums, you need to come see us. Our plum tree is “plum” full of plums! And yes, there are plenty on the ground to smunch between your toes.
(We got home to late to check them tonight, but the peaches should be ready any day now. Apples, pears and grapes in the fall – and oh, yeah, figs too – just not sure when they are to suppose to be ready. And I mustn’t forget the Kumquats.)