This year, I think I'm going to do a lot of applesauce. The thick, chunky type. The boys love applesauce, and it'll store well. We have an apple/peeler/corer deal, but our little green apples are small, black spotted, and wonky-shaped, so sometimes it seems more fruitful to use a sharp paring knife.
I don't know why, but whenever I'm peeling apples, I always feel connected to the women who farmed this land before me. I wonder who planted the three apple trees (there used to be three, anyhow, until Paul overzealously trimmed one), and if they waited patiently to see if they would bear fruit. I imagine apple pies trimmed out and baked, cooling on the old (now gone) wooden farmhouse windows in the fall. Would the women who farmed this land before be pleased to see me here today, delicately peeling away the skin from the apples of the trees they planted, storing up food for my family come winter? I imagine that - even if I'm not related by blood - they would be happy to see the apples continually appreciated after all these years.
It's Rural Thursday! Time to link up with Nancy from A Rural Journal and myself with your stories of the rural life. Is Fall starting to show itself in your neck of the woods? We want to hear all about it. Just grab the code below the button and paste it into your blog. Then come back and add your website to the linky. Please remember to comment on the posts of at least 5 other participants. Can't wait to see what you write today!