Apple season

I seem to remember a poem by one of the Rosetti’s that has something to do with apple picking. I may need to go look that up before I finish this. James and I were trying to go through the chronology of the garden this year, and all we could do was recite what is expected. I think we started with peas. Doesn’t it always start with peas. We had cucumbers, zucchini, a few early peppers and a beet or two before the tomatoes, oh yes and the beans. We had lots of beans during the heat. We also had those radishes, but we let them get out of hand, and they stunted the carrots, and we ended up tossing most of them. I would say that no radishes next year. We don’t eat them and Farmer’s Market doesn’t start early enough to sell them.

Lettuce, the lettuce was first, OH my goodness how could I forget the lettuce? We had scads of that. It was constant and I was so glad when it was finally finished. The spinach was not as good, and that is because of the type I planted. I thought it would be great to plant the baby spinach. Well, I have learned that around here you might as well plant the big type and harvest early and often. Anyway, the whole point of the blog is to say we are in apple season.

Today, James and I, ok so James got out the pick-up after we got home from church and we began the yard clean up. It is a beautiful day today. The rain and wind have both stopped, the sun came out, and all is wonderful here in this part of the Dakotas.

A sample of some apples we picked.

A sample of some apples we picked.

This apple seemed to scream put on a witch costume and go find Snow White, this is a perfect apple for that story.

This apple seemed to scream put on a witch costume and go find Snow White, this is a perfect apple for that story.

After we had the branches picked up, and taken to the dump site, we decided we could do another load. I have been wanting to trim the dead branches off the apple tree all summer. Well, here is the deal, we couldn’t trim until all the apples were picked. We couldn’t pick any apples until the bad ones were raked off the ground so we could put the ladder in place. We took six pails of fallen, half eaten, semi-rotten apples to our compost. It made us sick and sad to see all that waste, but what could be done.

We have four pails full in the garage, and I hope to shout some of the sisters take their share, so I don’t have to see any more find their way to the compost. Besides the compost container is full. Well, I didn’t feel much like starting a bakery or apple factory tonight, so I just took some that had a nick or two or a little bad spot and decided I would make one batch of apple sauce tonight.

Random cosmos to add pink to the post.

Random cosmos to add pink to the post.

If you remember this summer I purchased an apple peeler at an auction sale. It belonged to James’ Aunt Nettie, and I wasn’t so sure that I would ever use it, I just wanted it because it was hers. Today I decided to try it out. I never thought that I would figure out how to use it. I must tell you that not only did I get it figured out, but I fell in love with it. I may never use another tool again except this one. Ha! Check it out below.

Apple peeler

Apple peeler

Peeling

Peeling

Cored.

Cored.

Results.

Results.

Finished apple sauce.

Finished apple sauce.

So I was wrong about the poem. The Rossetti one was about picking apple blossoms and not having any apples. The other one is called After apple picking and is by Robert Frost. I found it on a website and have left it below for you to enjoy.

By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Robert Frost

My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it’s like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. sedrate organizes
    Oct 10, 2013 @ 20:25:02

    We had that very apple corer growing up! I found that it wasted too much apple for my taste so I went back to the knife and peeler method. Unfortunately, my first batch of applesauce didn’t work when I tried to can it. We had to eat it all, which wasn’t a bad thing.

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    • lucindalines
      Oct 10, 2013 @ 21:44:58

      I need to find a good applesauce recipe. I think there is something about lemon juice in it. My sister cans apple pie filling. I may have to get that from her. I wish I had my own recipes. I am forever nagging for hers. Sisterly rivalry. Ha!!

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  2. Marlene
    Oct 07, 2013 @ 02:41:11

    Love that apple peeler. What a beautiful job it does. And what lovely apples you have!

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    Reply

  3. The Belmont Rooster
    Oct 06, 2013 @ 19:23:29

    GREAT POST!

    Like

    Reply

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