We come back empty handed.

JC, Reese, Amy and Rosie packed up their caravan and headed out to the peach fields at Eckert's Farm east of Bellville, IL.   Rosie had been going there for as long as she had lived in St. Louis, it was a family tradition.

Amy said, "Why do the peaches always have to be ripe in the hottest days of the year?"  We think she was making a joke, but we weren't completely sure.

Rosie and Reese were old hands at ripe peach picking and transporting.  The rock star bus had a dozen flats set out ready in the back to receive the juicy bulging goodness of fully grown peaches.  You have to lay them out in single layers or the weight of the peaches on top will bruise the ones below.    The farm had a store next to it. the kind with penny candy, and homemade goodies and honeycombs for sale.  It had a petting area with hot pigs, annoyed chickens and a dust covered lamb.  There was a riding rink for tricycle John Deer tractors.  and over in the lane, the wagons to take you out to the peach orchard.

JC was pink necked and well on his way  to burning in the hot sun.  All the  ladies had their straw hats on and dampened kerchiefs round their necks.  He was being contrary and went bareheaded.   We had gotten there early but the sun was up hot and feisty on that August day,  The heat shimmered on the pavement. and it shimmered on the top of his head too.

We piled in the wagon with other groups of families and excited children.  The wagon was crowded so Amy sat on JC's head.  At least he was shaded by the sun, but he did have trouble seeing out.

We bumped along and swayed in the ruts.   The fella took his time and took us past the Victorian mansion that had been part of the farm.  Three full flights of brick and ornate iron work.  The inside was gorgeous.

We were picking half clingstone peaches today.  The guide shows us the rows, hands us bags and we go at it.

I get about half a small bag filled and one half way eaten when I hear a squish.   Poor JC has fainted in the heat.  what a disappointment.  We have to rush him into the store and treat him for heat stroke, leaving our tasty bags of peaches behinds in our concern.


JC was recovered well enough to go clubbing that night and we went back the next day for peaches.