A little Red at Christmastime.

A little Red at Christmastime.

Silence.  Standing outside taking in a blanket of newly fallen snow.   Silence.  Little ones asleep in their warm beds.  Silence.  My blog while I grow babies into toddlers and then kids.  And so now, in the season of frenzy, finally able to carve out time, I'm sharing with you my passion.

Red Cherries...picked from a local tree, pitted by three generations, and enjoyed by many.

In July I had plenty of help harvesting the sweet (okay, sour) goodness.  Tutus are a mandatory part of the cherry-picking uniform.  Spilled bowls of cherries are also part of the deal.  And little girls sharing time with their Mama is the best part in my memory.

No fancy cherry pitter needed, chopsticks worked perfectly.  Grandma, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter.  Chatting.  Laughing.  Silent.  Connecting and making more memories.  To me, memories are a special part of growing, harvesting, purchasing, preparing, sharing, and enjoying local eating.

 

And finally, the "fruit" of our labor.  "Granny" is one of the best pie makers I know and just happened to be vising when the cherries were ripe.  I love when the stars align just so!