Apples

I just put an apple crisp in the oven. The aroma of baking apples is quintessential autumn to me. In previous years, I’d work my way through boxes of B.C. apples by making crisps, pies, applesauce, not to mention eating them raw and crisp.

This morning, while I peeled apples, I reflected back on all the kitchens that were mine since I became an adult. Eight, I decided. I can conjure sweet memories of each of them associated with peeling apples; making crisps, pies, and sauces; or carving apple heads for dolls. Apple peels in the sink remind me of old days when my kids would snack on the peels them as fast as I could cut curly peels from apples. Some of those days were not without a (sometimes massive) measure of turmoil, but upon reflection, the continuity of autumn and apples softens the hard edges.

I picked a couple of beets earlier. They’re washed and in a pot ready to boil; their greens are chopped and ready to be steamed. Laundry’s done—almost. There’s a pile of things from the dryer still on the bed; I’m not quite ready to tackle folding and putting things away. Sometimes, if I procrastinate long enough, Gerry does it for me. 🙂

The local radio station is playing in the background. They’ve been talking about harvest—Saskatchewan has crossed the halfway point. Farmers say that yield is down due to drought, but quality is good.

It’s been busy around here and, as I look at my calendar hanging on the wall across the room, the rest of this month has a fair bit of ink on it too where I’ve penned in appointments and events. Yesterday, Gerry and I synced our calendars so I know October is inky too. There’s part of me looking forward to winter and the opportunity to stay home and hibernate.

But for now, apples and beets, zucchini and Swiss chard,  carrots and, if we’re lucky, a few cobs of corn before frost puts a definite end to the gardening season. It’s the season of abundance, contentment, and—what seems opposite in a sense—nesting.