Remember the first time you used a melon baller?
Magic, wasn't it?
Those long summer afternoons, curled up with an assortment of fruit.
Melon ballers, and a cool glass of water by your side.
Using the big ones for watermelon, cantaloupe, pumpkin.
The medium size melon baller for calabash, sponge guard, and yellow squash.
And the day when you finally graduated to the miniature, jewel like elegance of making melon balls with the smallest baller; a platter-necklace of peach, strawberry, apple, and walnut, and the delicate traceries of blue agave.
Dipping the melon ballers in the cold water to rinse between each fruit, until finally, you had the utmost in organic drinks: God's fresh spring water, lightly kissed by the fragrance of cucumber, lime, and snake gourd!
Those sweet, long afternoons, working out in the orchard.
Playfully interacting with those mischievous hornets! Oh, how they loved to sway and dance with you!
Will we ever see days like that again?
It's really SUCH a personal experience. I don't recall seeing anyone, not Mark Twain, not Flannery O'Connor, nor even Stephen King risk exposing this fundamental aspect of character formation in our personal iteration between Ice Ages. You won't hear a word about melon balling from Bruce Willis, Leslie Uggams, Robert DeNiro, Peggy Lee or even Denzel Washington. I understand that. Everyone has a right to keep their most precious memories safe in a vault, to draw on in times of need.
But today, as I melon balled this cantaloupe, I remembered. It was a sweet moment for me.
And I hope it was for you.
Peace be on your home.