Tag: #Apples

  • ODDS and ENDS: Doomscrolling is Back, My Picked Apple Goal, and Letting Go

    (I didn’t say no, but that’s not a yes…)

    I am back to my old doomscrolling ways, like it was October 2020. Oh, and this has 100% to do with the 2024 Election. The nerves have started kicking up again, and I keep scrolling on all the platforms looking for something to make me feel better, help me relax, and tell me that everything is going to be okay because the rest of America would never do what I think the polls are hinting that they might do and plunge us into another four years of orange chaos!!! If I learned anything about the internet, if you search long and hard enough, you will find what you are looking for.

    We went apple picking last weekend, and I even wrote blog about it, AND I even got a weird comment about it, which I think was snarky and sarcastic. As what happens with apple picking, you bring a shit ton of apples home. The wife does a good job of making a couple of deserts from the apples, and we put apples in the kid’s lunch, which she claims that she eats, or someone eats. Yet, year after year, we have to throw away some of our apples because they have sat on the counter too long, and are starting to rot. This year, we made a pact in our home to collect fewer apples, in the hopes that we will be less wasteful. And damn it, I’m holding to that; I will eat an apple a day, maybe two even, not just to avoid going to the doctor, but to do my part in ensuring that we eat every stinking apple that we selected from a farm in upstate New York!

    So what is the difference in giving up, and letting something go? If you give up you’re a quitter, if you let it go, then you are practicing self-care? There is a fine line there. But when this question pops into my head, this is the scene that plays out…

  • Apple Pickin’

    Apple picking is hokey, corny, and a sad excuse for city people to play farmer. We drive way out to the country to go to a “farm” and then pay to pick apples, which half of them will rot in our homes as we try to figure out what to do with 10 lbs. of apples.

    I have a fraught relationship with apple picking, but after nine years of it, I have come to love this part of our Fall tradition.

    The first time I went a’pickin’ was when the kid was a baby, and the “farm” was this almost amusement-park-of-a-place why out in the sticks of New Jersey. It took like thirty minutes to get into the place, the parking was so bad. The line for tickets was long, and then when you got in the joint, all the trees had been picked over. (There were pony rides!) And leaving the place took an hour. It was like leaving a rock concert, but with way more produce. I felt silly being there, like I was being conned.

    The next time I went was when my parents came to visit New York, and were staying upstate, as they were traveling in a motorhome. My wonderful wife found an orchard not too far from where my folks were staying. That was a way more enjoyable experience. It wasn’t crowded, lots of apples, a large orchard to wander around, and most importantly, the kid had a good time. With the exception of the Covid Years, we have gone back to the apple farm year after year.

    And as each year goes by, I start looking forward to it, more and more. It has become our tradition, and an activity that we can yardstick our year, and also gage how much the kid has grown and changed. It’s also the gateway into Autumn for us, as the drive takes us out of the City and into the woods of small town upstate. The changing leaves, and Halloween decorations sprinkled about every corner. Maybe it wasn’t as cool as it was last year, and the leaves were more yellow than any other color… but Fall had arrived for our family.

    Which also included the dog.

    (The dog was totes ready for some apple pickin’)