Suburban Sundays

There’s really nothing quite like spending time on a farm on a hot summer day – especially when it gets you back to the town you grew up in for 20 years.

The weather finally cooperated with my month-long plans to go peach picking this past Sunday (shout out to the rain on Saturday that forced me to start packing up my apartment for the impending move!), and I dragged the boy out into the hot summer heat to pick us some peaches (and raspberries – couldn’t resist).

Crazy plums!

Holding my bags & iced coffee - he's pretty great, huh?

As much as I love living in the city, I never feel quite as relaxed when I spend my weekends walking city streets, or even on my beloved Southie beach. The hum of AC units, shrill and unexpected horns, and the dull roar of cars rolling by, always, doesn’t bother me at all during my day-to-day; I don’t even realize it’s there until I’m standing in the middle of a field, and the hum I’m hearing comes from bees circling bushes and crickets in tall grass. 

I’ll always miss that as long as I’m living in Boston, and for it making me even more grateful for suburban summer afternoons.

I’m headed back to suburbia again tonight to whip up a few of the peach recipes that have been overtaking my Pinterest board (my parents have an ice cream maker, which if this goes well, I will likely attempt to steal). I’ll try to snap some shots before I devour them all.