the perfect peach

For summer,

And its fleeting joys (or sorrows).

The same day that my poet friend Diane had facebook lamented a disappointing peach, yours truly was questing for the the Perfect Peach and was too lucky to find it eight steps from the back door. 
So we are attempting to share them with you ... ... ...

 See, the peach is a fruit that resists transport.  Because ripening is such a quiet subtle operation. When the flavor and texture collide perfectly and release the seed.  It is a beautiful sensation indeed.

Peaches and their precious way of being tender and sour and the right amount of firm and sweet all at the same time have caused miles of wasteful packaging strategies and unfortunate refrigeration trucks that deaden and stunt the flavorful finish of hang time on tree.  Grocers offer mealy aftermaths or hard and never ready shams, fruit suspended in wrong air for wrong amount of time.

And still, in the 21st century, you have to kindly ask grocery packer boygirl to not put the jar of tomato sauce in the same bag.  The peaches who imprint our nicks and knocks of summer like children's knees.

And peach colors, well who couldn't be smitten with that sunfull speckle blend that invented the airbrush.

 And just the right amount of fuzz for complexion protection and dew.

The perfect peach tastes like
the best seconds of a perfectly lovely day that runs down your arm.

And if mother-of-us-all Phoebe said someone was just a "peach", well then they sincerely were.

We hope to heavens that you are finding your summer to be somewhat flavorful,

despite the news.  And that you have some real peaches in your life to hang around with.
Until then.

Found Art Friday 94

Well hello,

Who ya Gonna Call? from Bonnie Hotz in Missouri

WE are back from the depths of a very complete computer crash.  It was effective in cutting down on seat tethered hours and taking note of a whole shelf of her brain gone missing.  Amazingly, she had recently backed up her laptop using the "time machine" when the big rectangle started to falter then went black. Kaput. Nobody home. (The small rectangle iphone, certainly became more dear).  Mac, the big rectangle, went to Texas, where they found no boot, no logic, and an unrecognizeable hard drive that can now be de-mineralized and "recycled" after four hard years of magical digital 1s and 0s bits and bytes, cookies and chunks of silicon representing the residue of hers and other brains. They vacuumed Art Ranger's computer while wearing a little white suit. They installed a new logic board and hard drive, basically the innards, and voila she gets to start fresh and be asked about her preferred language.  Then, magically, after 3 hours of talking through an eighth inch cord and a chewing-gum-sized device with a flashing light, everything, including YOUR IMAGES (thank you participants), which the Ranger has begun to organize by name and theme, in librariany fashion, were restored, to their full upright position: 

Richard Piscuskas noticed this in Los Angeles

Soon we will be going Home on The Range, where we will see our mother:

Essence of Phoebe

So far this summer, we have driven kids around and around enough to have driven from California to Maine. Concentration has drifted.

Bonnie Hotz in the heartland

Keep your questing and questioning and observing well in mind. We hope there is clay or earth or some kind of adventure under your fingernails and blowing around in your hair.   Now that Art Ranger has sucessfully rebooted, we are putting our feet up for a few weeks. We'll see you when we see you ..... It's brief and precious, summer, like the perfect ear of corn.  

Now please use your back up disk right this second.

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