On a Saturday morning in May, Angela and I donned hats and trekked out to Schnepf Farms to pick Arizona peaches. We laughed the whole way. It felt like the drive took 10 minutes.

It was a glorious day – a rare cool morning – and our hats (and Angela’s British accent) were the hit of the farm.

We bit into the juiciest, sweetest peaches of our lives. I think I ate 10. Possibly 13.

We picked piles — 42 pounds between us. We played “photo shoot,” giggling at our getups.

In one of the trees, Angela found a tiny bird’s nest with elfin eggs tucked inside.

We went into the Schnepf Farms Country Store, where we loaded up on jam and syrup and peach salsa. And then, we saw this:

Pancakes, with fresh peaches and whipped cream. Bacon, too. Owner Carrie Schnepf (at right) insisted that we sit and partake. We obeyed. (And yes, sugar-free me happily caved. It was worth every bite.) We told Carrie it was the best thing we’d ever eaten.

And so she brought us into the bakery and showed us these:

Handmade cinnamon rolls the size of your face, with fresh peaches inside. When they’re finished baking, Carrie slathers them with icing she makes out of peach juice.

So we tasted one of those, too. After, we headed to the Olive Mill, the Pork Shop, and my dad’s garden to raid his tomatoes. In the end, I felt like this: