Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree:

            At least don’t sit under my apple tree. Not unless you have plenty of mosquito repellent and some netting, you will also need a club to fight off the ants. About 17 or 18 years ago, the lovely Avon brought home a stick with a few leaves and a root ball attached at their respective ends, and proudly proclaimed it to be an apple tree. She told me the name of the apples and then we each promptly forgot what it was – I just called it Bob the apple tree. The first few years it did nothing and then it started to produce apples, which because they were un-sprayed and un-cared for were spotted, wormy, and buggy – uh organic? I gave the apples to our wonder horse Red the un-ridable demon mustang. He would snort at me as if to say, “I’ll take your spotty apples, eat your hay, poop in your field, but if you get out that saddle I am going to try and kill you." He meant it.

            A few years back our daughter in law’s father picked and ate one of the spotted greenish reddish things and proclaimed it GOOD! Our neighbors verified that they were GOOD! In 15 years we had never eaten any – not one. I picked one and carefully cut out the spots and sure enough those things were fantastic. The tree has always been loaded and now we are eating apples, making applesauce, drying apples, and baking some things with apples. 

            The moral of this story is that many a fine treat has been left to rot on the ground because we were afraid to eat a worm.

Life is good.... I'm for continuing it.

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High…coming soon… Blue Norther

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