Dear Kathy - Re: Apricots

Dear Kathy,

Maybe I ate too many apricots. What a concept.

Now it’s half past 3 o’clock in the morning, and Rita, our not so new cat anymore, is sitting in my lap making it difficult to keyboard. Another concept.

I mean keyboarding as a verb. Rita is a long-haired, black and white, yellow-eyed cat.

I heard the distant sound of a train through our open window when I first got up. And now I hear it again.

There is almost no point in mentioning these things, by earthly standards, but not by mine. These days, these seem to be the only things worth mentioning.

So let me tell you that they were selling apricots at the neighborhood farmer’s market yesterday. Apparently they sold them for 3 ½ a box, about as many as you would hold in your cupped hands. When we got there, they were selling seconds - drops and too-softs - for a dollar and a half.

I had eaten several of the best of them before we got home. Thank goodness we hadn’t gotten the firsts. I can’t imagine how many I might have eaten. Actually, with the price in mind, I might have eaten fewer.

But while Dawn finished making supper, I walked back, and bought two more boxes. Three bucks.

After we had eaten out on our patio, clouds scudding by, the air cool for the day in June, the green and other colors of our yard all around, I did the dishes while Dawn sorted through the apricots. She took out the most damaged and soft to make a cobbler, which we ate warm with melting vanilla ice cream, while watching a somewhat silly but beautiful French movie.

It was like the miracle of the loaves and the fishes. There’s still a bowl of the firsts of the seconds in the refrigerator, as well as a box of the seconds of the seconds.

If this is all too mundane for you, then there’s probably no hope for you.

I just heard another train. It has to be three miles away.

And I’ve written myself into getting up from my chair for another apricot, but who’s counting?

… Okay, I had three – small ones. I put the box back in the refrigerator.

You know what they say about being in heaven? Eat enough apricots like these and I just might get there. One way or the other.

What a concept. And I mostly mean the apricots.

They expect to have more apricots next week.

The only question I have is whether I should buy the firsts or wait around for the seconds – and drop the change in the offering plate.

If there’s anything to tell, I’ll be up again about this time next week.

I think I’ll turn off the power and the lights now and go over to the window where Rita’s sleeping and lean the recliner back and wait for another train.

Or breakfast.

Apricots by daylight in paradise.

I should leave a few out on the counter so they’ll be room temperature - if I wake up from this dream.

Contentedly yours,