Every spring our ancient backyard gravenstein apple tree awakens from winter in glorious blossoms. While I always enjoy its beauty, I also begrudge the inevitible mess it will cause in a few months as it drops its ripened fruit all over the ground. I have no good reason to feel this way since I’m not the one who has to pick them up and carry them to the compost each time he wants to mow the grass. That would be Mauri (who never complains about it). We welcome anyone who wants apples to help themselves, and sometimes they do.
Several days ago Mom Edna brought us some applesauce she had made from our apples. It was so good I could almost think of it as dessert, which I resisted since I’m not eating dessert these days. So I topped it with a little cottage cheese and called it salad. Inspired, I asked Mauri to bring in a bucket of those pesky apples. He got the apple peeler/corer/slicer out of the gadget closet and we went to town on those unsightly things. I downloaded a recipe for applesauce since it’s been years since my domestic side kicked in and I didn’t want to ruin our efforts.
So I’ve proven what an idiot I’ve been all these years, wasting such a rich resource, even thinking ill of that 100+ year-old tree for fulfilling its calling. But I have repented … and turned!