I opened it right away. Before I took off my coat. Inside I found this:
A bonafide Crane Melon. Straight from Crane Melon Barn, in Santa Rosa, California. Richard Crane, the father of Oliver Crane, the man who developed the Crane melon, was Grandma's Great-Great-Uncle; her maiden name was Crane. Not a bad birthright, Crane melons.
After dinner, I took a knife and split it in two. The seeds slipped out with a slurpy sound. Or at least I thought I heard a slurp. I might have imagined it.
I wish I could take a picture of the scent of this melon. Or find a perfume like it.
We ate it for dessert. When I put the first bite in my mouth, it dissolved. In another day or two, it would be past ripe. But right then, it was perfect. What's better than the most perfect bite of melon?
We finished it for breakfast. When I uncovered it, I thought there was plastic sticking to it still, it was so shiny. But it was just the melon, shimmering.
This is just to say
Thanks, Mom and Dad
It was delicious
So perfect and unexpected
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6 comments:
So glad you liked it and thanks for the pictures and story.
You are welcome!
I think there is nothing better than the fragrance and taste of a perfectly ripe melon.
And I love your little poem at the end!
Thanks, Kairu--I agree about the fragrance of melons (though peaches are close for me). And thanks about the poem, which, of course, was shamelessly skimmed from William Carlos Williams 'This Is Just To Say'.
Yes, I love the smell of peaches too.
"This is Just to Say" is one of my favorite poems, even though I prefer my fruit at room temperature (with the exception of watermelon, which must be icy-cold). Especially plums and peaches, warmed by the sun, juices dripping down my face.
One of my favorites too--when my son was little, he memorized it for a present for me one Mothers Day or birthday...
I,too, prefer most fruit room-temperature. I do like ice-cold cherries though, sometimes serving them in a bowl of ice.
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