The last rental car has been turned in. &nbsp;The last hotel bill has been signed. &nbsp;It&#039;s August, Seattle&#039;s cool, cloudy version of August, and we&#039;re home to enjoy it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The backyard relandscaping project is nearing its end. &nbsp;We now have some plants in the garden in addition to the rocks. &nbsp;For a long time our grandson was convinced that we were only going to have a &quot;rock garden.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this morning, I had one of August&#039;s perennial treats--chopped fresh peaches and Wheat Chex for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When our family moved from the farm in South Dakota to Bisbee, Arizona in 1949, there were two kinds of water in Bisbee--clear, fresh drinking water inside the houses and brackish brown mine water flowing through pipes in yards. &nbsp;The mine water was pumped out of the underground copper mines, and it came with the added advantage of being free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time, Bisbee was a real oasis. &nbsp;Everyone had yards with grass that needed mowing and fruit trees and gardens. &nbsp;Vista Park in Warren was a marvel of big shady trees and lush green grass. &nbsp;The mine water may not have been fit to drink but plants loved the mineral laden stuff. &nbsp;Once Phelps Dodge figured out that mine water could be diverted through the tailings dump and used to extract otherwise unusable copper, the water stopped being free, and most of Bisbee&#039;s trees and gardens and grass went the way of the dodo bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we moved into the house on Yuma Trail, however, mine water was still available, and the yard had trees--apricot, peach, nectarine, and fig as well as a huge old mulberry whose fruit turned the soles of our bare feet purple by the end of every summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in the family archives is a photo of me sitting next to my dad along with the two huge boxes of apricots we had just finished picking from two of those trees. &nbsp;As I recall, there were only three peach trees on the west side of the house, but those bore plenty of fruit, too. &nbsp;And each August, my mother who had been raised on a farm, went on a canning binge, putting up quarts and quarts of home-grown apricots and peaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houses in Bisbee in the fifties were not air-conditioned. &nbsp;And canning peaches in August was hot work, with a huge canning pot full of water, boiling away on the stove in an already over-heated house. &nbsp;Once the canning was done, the product of my mother labors disappeared onto the shelves in the cool, earthen-floored part of the downstairs basement. . &nbsp;Throughout the rest of the year, eating those canned peaches and apricots for dessert at supper (Not dinner, by the way!) was always a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my mother didn&#039;t can ALL the peaches. &nbsp;Some she peeled and chopped up. &nbsp;She always scalded the peaches with boiling water before she peeled them, and I was fascinated to see how she would take the peel off in one long strand. &nbsp;Then she chopped them up. &nbsp;She had our father remove the bottom of a can with a set of tin snips, and she used the sharp edge of that to cut the peaches into bite-sized pieces. &nbsp;Add sugar for taste and lemon juice to help keep the peaches from turning brown, and you had one of the world&#039;s best summer time treats to add to cereal or ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I tried my August special on my grandson. &nbsp;He&#039;s a polite kid. &nbsp;He took one &quot;no thank you&quot; bite before explaining to me that he only likes peaches when they&#039;re whole; not when they&#039;re cut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His loss. &nbsp;It&#039;s still August and I still have a few more chopped up peaches lurking in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;