summer_fruit birdmad when i worked at the shed myself, there were the watermelons to look forward to... before he fell sick, when my father was the foreman, it was standard practice for the drivers to give my dad and anyone who had a hand in moving their shipments a box or two out of their cargo being a relatively unusual child, i loved the vegetables, the broccoli, the cauliflower, the spinach but my god, the fruit crate/flat of cherries, strawberries here box of giant, sweet red apples there, then green ones from another grower, a 20 pound mesh bag of navel oranges box of peaches, box of nectarines, half crate black plums, half crate white plums crate of cantaloupes (cut in half and dump/scrape out the seeds, pack the gap with vanilla ice cream or frozen yogurt -- tasty) what we knew we could not eat we shared with our next-door neighbours who enjoyed the abundance as much we did i count that time among what i miss memory of the sound of my dad's company truck pulling up in the driveway just as the sun was setting (the loud blue chevy diesel you could hear all the way down the block) familiar smell of my dad after a day at the shed as he came through the door, mixed notes - faintly of onion, strongly of coffee and cigarettes and underlied by a little old spice and an avon deodorant whose brand name escapes me - it should hae been revolting on the face of it but it was always a comfortingly familiar thing come out of my room to see him come in the front door "My baby boy, my cabron! do me a favor and bring the box(es) out of the truck" (in most circles, to be called "cabron" is an insult or something said scoldingly - in this family, it is largely a term of affection, i frequently refer to my brother's little boys as "mis cabrones" ) 020620 ... pilgrim Like Father, Like Son. Yeah, I can see that, In the digital age of Mechanical Copies, He might have called you "My Xerox" 020620 ... jinx I was conceived in July. I am summer fruit. 030106 ... birdmad i ran into my old foreman today, the guy who ran the shed after my dad got sick...my first boss... the owner sold it off, and my old friend was working for the city circularity is funny sometimes 030107 ... frAnk i missed the original post, birdmad, but i'm glad to pick it up in its circular route. your writing was a stunning depiction of childhood memory. made me think of my dad... he passed away last year, but sometimes i can still sense his fragrance, which rekindles the memories of our times together. and simply the term, "summer fruit," is interesting and extremely appealing now, when i look out the window of our winter room here at robin hill and see drifts of snow, some two feet high. 030107 what's it to you? who go blather from