Growing up with a farm in Hawkinsville, a self taught education was at hand with each season offering a learning curve and lesson of that time of year’s particular offering. One of the indigenous floras that always brought an exciting reward was wild plums.
Often calling them “hog plums,” since the beasts would often beat you to the punch, these sweet and sour little fruits make for a delicious summer delicacy in several fashions – jelly, jam, conserve, fritter, or crunch. Nothing easier than fresh picked fruit mixed with a few ingredients and served with ice cream – delish!
In early spring, bright pink to white blossoms cover gray sticks of wild plum bushes across the Deep South. Striking against a newly blue spring sky or a gray sky of a lingering winter, these blossoms are the first sign of a summer treat. Several varieties and species can be found across the region and harvest can begin as early as June and extend well until the end of the summer.
As far back as I can remember, every June my family would make our
annual pilgrimage to Jones' Farm to pick bright red juicy strawberries.
If we didn't leave with a heaping boxful then we didn't do our jobs.
But as a kid I would always end up picking more for myself than for the
box, eating every other berry and leaving with the tell-tale signs on
my hands and face. I was just as guilty as the next kid, so actually I
didn't feel that bad. Now as an adult I typically taste only one and
try to keep myself from eating any more. I'm really just saving up for
gorging on them in the privacy of my own home.
When I saw that 20-foot-long table covered with plump, brilliant red cherries and velvety soft golden apricots I audibly gasped (hey, I wasn't the only one). Then I turned to Jeff and said something like, "I'm making an apricot and cherry pie when we get home! Or should I make a crumble? Ooh-ooh, I know, how about a cobbler?" See what I mean? Waaay too excited.
. When my mom realized I didn't have his book, she was shocked:
When I was growing up I knew all the best places to pick blackberries within walking distance of my house. Wild blackberries are relatives of the rose, and like rose bushes, blackberry bushes or brambles have thorns making the prize difficult to reach. But so worth the effort. I had a basic formula that I kept to back then--one berry for me, one for the bucket, another one for me, another one for the bucket. Somehow eating them while picking them, they tasted even better than when eaten at home. Of course it also lead to purple stained tongue and fingers as evidence of my consumption. 
I couldn't be more excited for the month of August. August and fresh peaches are synonymous. Yes, peaches are available during other months of the year but there is something special about the August peach; it’s just sweeter. I don’t think I’m imagining it. Maybe I’m fueled by the anticipation of peach cobblers, 