Mom, baseball, and apple pie.
You're the apple of my eye.
Yep. Ever since Eden, the apple has been getting star billing over its fellow fruits.
And now, at this moment, I would vote for the skunk cabbage over the apple.
And there's a darn good reason.
Skunk cabbages don't grow on trees. Specifically those two trees outside the kitchen window.
Trees that are full of apples. Really, REALLY full of apples.
And, of course, because of our beliefs, we must be good stewards of those apples. We just can't let them fall to the ground and fatten deer, skunks, raccoons, and rabbits.
No. They must be immersed (not sprinkled), scrubbed, dried, peeled, cored, cut, boiled, canned, and put away. To join the other 103 pints of applesauce and pie-filling we have accumulated over the last three years.
Huh.
Isn't it appropriate that an apple started the Fall?
All this time, it's been assumed that the awareness of nakedness first hit the Edenic couple.
No. Hhh-uh.
It was the immediate realization that they would be canning for the rest of their natural lives.
Stupid-apple-polishing snake.
We've invested over 14 hours of picking, cleaning, peeling, and boiling and the trees are still heavily laden with the frustrating fruit.
And these are dwarf apple trees.
Now I know how the Israelites felt.
"Ba-manna muffins again, Gladys? How 'bout some meat?"
"Benny, you'll pop a vessel. Settle down. Have a muffin."
"No! I want meat! God can do anything, right? How 'bout a chunk of chicken for a manna sandwich?
You know what the problem is, Gladys? Moses of "I-got-the-shiny- face-&-you-don't" doesn't have the moxie to ask for more!"
"Benny! You'll get us in trouble! Remember what happened to Cousin Korah and most of the Pinochle Club!"
"Meat, Gladys! I want MEAT!"
And they got it.
'Til it came outta their noses.
Yeah.
Be careful what you long for.
I don't remember asking for apples but I was the one who planted the trees.
Poor stupid man that I was.
Poor desperate man that I am.
Last Sunday I filled grocery bags full of apples and took them to church.
I snuck out during the last song, thinking I'd distribute the wealth and get back in time for coffee.
I started through the parking lot and bumped into two other church members.
Mark had bags of green beans.
Gary was dragging around tomatoes and cucumbers.
After five minutes of prowling, we realized that our congregation had adhered to that call to "be wise as serpents and harmless as doves".
All the cars were locked.
Then we remembered.
We had done this last week.