I have one memory that is so vivid. When I was a child, my parents had my great-grandmother watch me during the day while they were at work, so they didn’t have to pay for Day Care. We lived out in California at the time, and my great-grandmother’s apartment complex had peach trees located right next to some train tracks. We used to go out to the train tracks after my nap after lunch, and we would pick peaches and the train would come by. We would walk back home in the California heat, and my great-grandmother picked me up and sat me on the kitchen counter. She would cut a peach in half, and we would eat it. Afterwards, we’d go outside onto her tiny patio and plant the seed in some dirt. The seeds never grew, but it was always fun. It’s one of my earliest and fondest memories I have, and it makes me sad because I’ve formed a terrible allergy to peaches, so I can’t eat them or touch them anymore.