The mountain wasn't moved to Muhammad that day

I'm taking this advice from Rick Bragg:

"I'm tired of explaining myself and I ain't doing it no more; just write from the heart." So here’s to you, my writing hero. I don't know how else to write except my own experience.

So, in mid June when the peaches were bending the limbs, we ate them fresh off the trees as we sat afork in-between. Mama had us toting big old galvanized washtubs of peaches to the work bench under the shade of the Chinaberry tree so as to prep them for canning. The peaches kept ripening and falling to the ground, some caused by our shaking and some from being too r...

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