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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Page 114

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I seem to have a mania for buying pears and peaches by the bushel or even several bushel at a time and earning them. I don't know exactly whether their appearance in quantity is irresistable; whether it is because of the home-canned tinned fruits are not delectable, or whether it is because of the aesthetic appeal of the rows of golden, crimson and creamy mellow fruits in glass jars look so beautifully appetizing on the shelves. I am sure I don't know whether it is the aesthetic -- the painter, the savory - the stomach; or merely the Scotch frugality -- the ancestory. Perhaps it may be a compounded intangible whole of all three tangled together. Bugs follow me around to get the most delectable bites out of me. Not all dream but facts
 
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries