Monday, August 18, 2008

Don't sit under the apple tree

I bought my house a little over a year ago now, and still love it. I knew the first time I saw it that it was the house for me - a cozy 850 square feet that holds three bedrooms, an attached garage, a fenced-in back yard, and, best of all, a beautiful apple tree in the front.

At least I believed it was beautiful until about mid-way through last summer - that's when the fruit started falling.

Everyday from mid-July through snow I need to pick up at least two bucket-fulls of apples just to keep up. It's crazy.

Last year, around hunting time, some guy stopped and asked if he could pick-up my apples for deer bait - I think I slipped him some tongue I was so happy. I wouldn't have to worry about crawling around on my front lawn with hands full of half rotten apples!

Ah, but now I would have to worry about my karma - providing enticement to lead poor Bambi and his comrades to their violent deaths doesn't seem like what might get me the best brownie points huh? Well, I decided to risk it - I'm otherwise in pretty good balance.

Flash-forward to another year, another summer of apple delight, and things were about the same. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, Carlos' friend Sam and his family came to visit, and while the boys were running amuck, Theresa, Ali (or Ollie, or Ally - I'm not really sure how to say it let alone spell it), Sis and I sat in the yard
under the apple tree chatting it up. Ali started eating the apples - something that never occurred to me - so we all tried one and they're delicious! Who knew!

So, know I'm still not thrilled about the carpet of apples I find on my front lawn every morning, but at least when I'm done creeping around gathering them up for compost, I can pluck a juicy reward from the branches.

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