On Saturday, we decided to pick our apple tree.
I made the call because I noticed an awful lot had fallen and started to rot over the week previous.
But more so than that, while investigating under the tree, coaxing it to give me a sign, I made a discovery…
I found a half-eaten apple, perfectly nibbled into a concave, rotting arc of fruit by some little squirrel or other arboreal creature, still hanging on the tree.
I wish I’d taken a picture of it, but to be perfectly honest, it’s kinda scary and spiderwebby in that tree. I didn’t want to move around too much or straighten up. I just took it as a sign from nature: if the little critters were eating the apples, then we probably could, too.
So we picked it. And now we have a buttload (to use one of my favorite descriptive quantities) of apples:
(Oh — and a couple limes I grabbed off the lime tree because we bought some Tecate…)
Not to mention, these are the biggest freakin’ apples I’ve ever seen. Look at those suckers! I needed two hands to pull most of them off the tree. They simply HAD to be stopped from growing any larger. Jesus.
This makes me happy, because when we moved in, no one had thinned the apple tree. There were giant clumps of apples all crowded together and by the time we got around to thinning it ourselves, well… We learned where the phrase “one bad apple spoils the whole bunch” comes from. Many of the apples on the tree had rotted, and we had to do a massive, rapid thin to save what we could.
Still — I think we have enough. And next year, we’ll have even more. Anyone want pie in the meantime?
Plus, what we failed to save, has helped us succeed at something else…
If anyone wants my recipe for that, come on over!