Apple a day

So... we all know about the old saying "an apple a day keeps the doctor away", but what happens when you need to bend over, kneel, and reach to pick up hundreds of apples off the ground?



Can you say chiropractor?



We have four ancient Macintosh apple trees in our backyard, and though we aren't at the point in our young part-time farming careers where we can keep up with the pruning and spraying of the trees (not that we are keen on using all those chemical pesticides anyway) in order to get bountiful tie-the-branches-to-the-tree-or-they'll-break-from-the-weight-of-all-these-apples type harvests, they actually do a tremendous job of growing lots of apples most years. The problem is, though a high percentage of the apples have issues such as worms and other such pleasant things, they grow to a decent size, then follow Isaac Newton's theory and fall to the ground quicker than our schedules allow us to pick them up. This creates quite the obstacle to such things as mowing the lawn and walking without spraining an ankle. So a-pickin we will go!



Now, if we didn't plan on using any of the apples, it would be a fairly straightforward task to just toss the apples into the garden cart and haul them off to the compost pile. Ha ha! Did I tell you I'm a Duford? I come from a loooong line of descendants who believed that just about anything you come across in your life could be used for something, someday, so we don't just throw things away (If you could have seen my departed Memere's basement, you'd find all the evidence you'd ever need to qualify this statement. Behold the five wooden"spaghetti mop" handles, and the cleaned out styrofoam fast food hamburger containers - and you know how long it's been since Mceedees served burgers in those - and you may begin to understand what I mean). No, this apple "picking" is a highly evolved, and involved process, more of an apple "choosing" and must be broken into the following categories:

1. The perfect specimen. This is like an apple you'd see at the market, rich red color, few if any blemishes. It's as if, on its way falling down to the ground, a small flock of swallows swooped in and formed a net to catch it, then floated gently to the ground to place it right-side-up near the tree, all the while a choir of angel voices singing that Carpenter's song about being close to you. Quite rare for our unkempt trees, and believe me I've checked.


2. The eating apple. Still looks pretty good, some "scabs" visible, no noticeable worm holes (doesn't mean they aren't or weren't there, they just aren't noticeable, and hey, what you don't see can't hurt you, right?). Just shine her up and crunch away, carefully.


3. The pie and/or crisp apple. this has a fair amount of scabbing, bruises and potential worm holes, but enough good areas that a skilled person with a paring knife could cut around this nonsense, throw a bunch of cinnamon, sugar, butter and french vanilla ice cream at it and make something quite delectable indeed.


4. The cider apple. This is by far the most common, and depending on your tastes and apple etiquette, could describe just about any apple that hasn't gone back to seed. Rumor has it that my dear departed Dad, Donald, had an extremely wide range of apples that he would plunge into the 'ol cider press, worms and all. mmm.... worms. We still have that old press, and by golly we'll get it out some year to carry on the family tradition to make some nice wormy cider. Just for you Dad!


5. The "oh my god, get it off me!" apple. There is the apple specimen out there that doesn't quite play nice with the other apples. Yes, I speak of the much reputed "bad apple." Picture if you will, daylight is fading, you're in a hurry to get all these #%&*ing apples separated before darkness falls, and you've raised your standards on what to keep or not keep, mostly just grabbing and throwing apples into the compost cart with somewhat reckless abandon. Then it happens, an apple that seems solid turns out to be anything but, and your fingers poke into the slimy, mushy flesh, releasing that fantastic fragrance of slimy mushy apple that the Glade Company has yet to offer the world. Or, you pick up an apple and say "hey, this looks okay... what the...", as six or so wiry orange worms poke out from the bottom, reaching menacingly toward you, like Medusa's fabled head of snakes. Or perhaps, after hours of picking up apples and carefully inspecting each one, your eyes get blurry, and you think that faint buzzing noise must be in your ears, and the flurry of activity near that particular apple is just some sort of mirage brought on by smelling fermented apples all afternoon. So you reach out to grab it, your senses just a click behind your brain screaming "yellow jackets! yellow jackets! abort!", but it's too late, your hand has already entered the fray, ouch! This is the main reason my allergic wife doesn't do the apple picking-up.


6. There is no sixth grade of apple, I just couldn't get out of the auto-formatting here.

Okay, that's better. So, how did I start this whole thing anyway? Oh, yes, an apple a day... Yeeess, just an apple a day is good for you, really.

Thanks for reading, as as always, may your rows be straight, your vines long and your harvest full.

-farmer-not-so-extraordinaire, Dave