Plop… Plop Plop. Plop…

applesIt kind of sounds like the sound Froggy makes when he frog-hops around but it isn’t. It is the sound I hear every time I walk out into the Landfill back yard. If I am in the wrong place at the wrong time, I get hit on the head. Can I just say APPLES!!! Apples and apples and apples and more apples. And then some more. Our whole tree is covered with them and there are tons of them on the ground, which is where I do my picking.

If I had any life experience with growing fruit on trees (or growing any food, for that matter), I’d’ve spent the weekend peeling (or not) and cutting up and seeding and canning and whatever you do to apples. Instead, this whole apple plethora has taken me completely by surprise. We have lived in the Landfill more years than I have the strength to admit at the moment. The apple tree was a mature tree when we moved in. Apples? Oh, maybe a handful or two each year. I don’t ever remember eating even *one* of the apples in any of those handfuls.

This year? I do not know what the heck is going on. I know just enough about agriculture to know that last year’s apple crop (and cherry crop and asparagus crop and I dunno what else) was a total bust. I mean statewide. I don’t remember any apples here at the Landfill but I wasn’t really looking for apples because, well you know, we usually don’t get very many.

These apples are wonderful! I have no idea what variety they are. They are very sweet and they are small. I hate trying to eat the big, often kind of tart apples you get at the grokkery store (even the last ones I got at the farmer’s market were like that and I taste tested those before buying so go figger). These little apples are to die for. We can’t eat them all and I feel guilty about that and also about the fact that I don’t have the time, expertise, and psychological energy to process them into pies or applesauce or donate them to someone or whatever. At least we’re feeding the shirrels, chipmunks, henrys and probably other little beasties.

It would be fun to speculate that this windfall is the doing of someone from the Other Side messing with my mind and my Black Thumb but I suspect it is more likely due to our very wet and rather chilly spring and summer weather. Anyway, my apple tree is sure happy this year and I love her!

4 Responses to “Plop… Plop Plop. Plop…”

  1. isa Says:

    I can’t even imagine. Maybe I’ll come for a visit this weekend!

  2. Marquis Says:

    We camped under an oak tree last weekend. Our version of plop, plop plop, had a harder ring to it. Neither of us were ever hit directly, which is a good thing, because these acorns were about twice the size of any that I have ever seen. One struck the roof of the Prius while I was sitting in it and it scared the bejezus out of me.

  3. Margaret Says:

    Gravensteins perhaps? That’s what they resemble and they are delicious apples.

  4. Pooh Says:

    You could take a bag into work. They are beautiful!