We went to the farm this weekend because not only it was Labor Day Weekend but - with the onset of fall - the apples were finally ready. The pears, Gloria explained, were still rock-heard, so they wouldn't be ready for another few weeks. Still, she encouraged us to take some anyway, especially since we weren't planning to be around. The next time we came to visit in another few weeks, the pears might be gone.Arthur was quite eager to pick fruit this year. He demanded we pick apples before lunch, but we insisted he wait until afterwards so that we could all pick together.
We set up the ladders, grabbed plastic and paper bags, dusted off the apple-pickers and started gathering apples. Even Papa and Gloria helped.About half-way through the chore, Marshmallow (also known jokingly as "Mushroom" by Papa) climbed onto a ladder and sat next to Balin. She begged for attention, meowing and rubbing up against him while he showered her with attention. Balin, terrified of our own cat, happily complied.
Arthur, my little daredevil, wanted to climb the trees. He spent a good portion of time after the clean up climbing up and down one of the apple trees. As he grew comfortable up among the leaves, he became less apprehensious and slipped. He managed to hang onto one of the branches and I grabbed his waist and lowered him down. That little hiccup didn't stop him; however, because he shimmied back up one of the ladders and back up the branches, the perfect apple in his sight.When we returned home Monday night and the apples and pears were finally unloaded and stacked in the living room, we began the arduous process of producing apple butter. It's sweaty and time-consuming, but it's well worth it!
Blessed be.
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