I spent the weekend at my mom and dad's where thousands of apples are ripening on their apple trees. My dad tied beer cans with a mixture of beer and molasses in them to the tree branches this past spring and the result: no worms!
My sister and I walked down to the tiny orchard at the end of their garden in our colorful skirts and picked apples in the sunshine on Saturday afternoon. We then carried the buckets up to the kitchen and started the process of peeling, chopping, simmering and seasoning that would result in a winter's worth of applesauce.
I only managed a few rounds of knitting this weekend, the rest of the time I was either up to my elbows in applesauce or tomatoes. My grandmother was over for most of the weekend helping us. We made an apple pie on Saturday evening. One person rolled out the dough, another peeled and cut the apples and yet another mixed the seasoning for the pie.
No one wanted to roll out the top crust. Finally grandma took over and rolled out what was left of the dough. She said it didn't need to be pretty, it just needed to fit on a day like today when we were all exhausted from working in the kitchen.
The results were delicious.
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