First Apple Pie

I have a confession to make: I am 39 years old and have never baked an apple pie from scratch...until today. What possessed me? Probably all those free apples just sitting out there in the orchard. I've always been intimidated by the thought of making my own pie crust. Sure I'll make a pie if I have refrigerated pie crust on hand. But I didn't have any today. What I did have was about 10 pounds of those darn apples just sitting there on the counter staring me in the face. I used half of them to make another batch of Crock Pot Applesauce. I couldn't just throw the rest of them to the chooks--after all, these were good quality apples! So I bit the proverbial bullet and got out my trusty Betty Crocker cookbook to find a pie crust recipe.

The directions for deep dish apple pie seemed simple enough. And wouldn't you know it, I had just the right number of apples left after making the applesauce! I enlisted the help of Derek to peel them while I set about making my first pie crust. You know what? It was really easy and it didn't require cooking skills to rival Martha Stewart's! The process was so simple that I won't be intimidated by pie crusts anymore. Here's how the final product looked. I made the cutouts using the apple corer and a paring knife. That lovely yellow pie pan was my grandmother's. It was just the right size for a deep dish pie.



I peeled and cored so many apples today that I had enough scraps for the chickens and the ducks. During dinner I glanced out the glass doors and noticed a very small, cute female wild mallard swimming with our gang of ducks. They seemed to be enjoying each other's company and neither party was hostile toward the other. It was fun to watch them staring at each other as if to say, "Boy, don't you look different!"

After all the work in the kitchen today I am definitely ready to put my feet up and relax. It smells wonderful in the house. The applesauce is cooling and when it's ready I'll put it in the freezer. Jim isn't a big fan of applesauce but after two helpings of mine tonight he ordered me to make more! It feels good to have made so many homemade goodies today, but I am beat!

Crock Pot Applesauce

This weekend promises to be cool and rainy, and by the looks of things the weatherman wasn't lying. Before the rain arrived, I went out into the orchard this morning and filled my 2.5 gallon bucket with dropped apples to make applesauce in the crock pot.Kim over at Achorn Farm gave me the idea. I picked up a mix of Yellow Delicious and Gala apples. After peeling and coring, I cut the apples into chunks and put them in the crock pot along with 1/2 cup of sugar and 2 cinnamon sticks. I let it cook on "High" for 3 hours then used my new immersion blender to puree the applesauce to a fine texture. If you don't have an immersion blender get one. You'll throw your countertop blender away!

While the applesauce simmered I took a nap. The house smelled wonderful when I woke up with apple and cinnamon smells throughout the whole house!

The peels and cores from four pounds of apples filled a large Cool Whip container which went out to the chickens. I think they appreciated it. I keep this plastic container in the small section of the kitchen sink. Egg shells, peels, fat trimmings and any other "waste" generated in the kitchen ends up in the container which gets emptied each afternoon when I call the chickens in.




















They've been eating a lot of apples this month. I go out into the orchard regularly to fill the bucket with bruised fruit left on the ground after the apples were picked. I love the whole "I feed you, you feed me" principle. I feed my chickens all of my kitchen "waste"...

...and in return they feed me the best eggs I've ever had.

Snowy Excursion

Another snow storm, another snow day and a really bad case of cabin fever. What to do? Grab the camera and walk down to the farm run by my cousin, John. I helped Derek get his mountain bike down from the loft and off we went.

Along the way we stopped to admire the apple trees. At the end of this row an ancient oak can be seen. It stands as a lone sentinel.

When we got there, we stopped to say hello the Haflingers. They were unimpressed to say the least. As we stood by the horses we looked up to see two beautiful white swans zoom overhead. I couldn't tell if there was a knob on the bill or not, but Derek said he saw the knob which would mean Mute Swan. My gut is telling me Tundra Swan though.

But the kittens in the hay loft were thrilled to see us and they mewed enthusiastically. I climbed the ladder halfway so I could give each one a nice ear scratching. They were grateful.

Then we visited a newborn Angus calf. His mother let us know in no uncertain terms that we were not welcome and that if we knew what was good for us we would leave immediately. Good thing there were two gates between us. I've been around cows a lot and this one meant business!

We watched as John loaded up three bulls for a trip to the slaughterhouse then we headed back home. It was a nice day to be out in the sunshine, even if it was a bit cold. I made the trip in two heavy sweatshirts, so it wasn't that bad at all.

On the way home, we got a good look at a Red-Tailed Hawk soaring over the orchard as well as a mature Bald Eagle lazily soaring over the Twelve Acres windbreak and field. It's raptor heaven out here and we love it!

After we'd been in the house a while I noticed that the Red-Winged Blackbirds that had been whistling and singing away merrily at the feeders were suddenly quiet. When kids are quiet, you know they're up to no good. The same can be said for birds although it's usually a sign of trouble. I glanced out the front windows to see what was going on and to my pleasant surprise, there sat Cooper in the Norway Maple, waiting for the birds to come to the feeder. I had to chuckle at her. She thinks my bid hopper feeder is her own personal diner. I didn't see any songbirds offer themselves up for lunch though. She gave up after a while and flew off after a Mourning Dove. I don't know if she succeeded with catching it though. We got a really good look at her with our binocs and it was a great treat to be able to watch her for a few solid minutes before she left!

Grandpa's Pruners

My cousin, John, gave me this big piece of apple wood the week of Christmas. He told me he had cut some of the original apple trees and thought I would like to have this piece of wood. He knew it would mean something to me. Damn right it did. When he handed it to me my eyes welled up with tears.

It's cut with the grain instead of against it which makes it very unusual. Its odd shape is due to the fact that it is the trunk profile, the upper right corner being an old cut wound left behind after a limb removal. The wood is rough from being cut with a chain saw. The tree it came from was at least 65 years old.

I wasn't sure what to do with it since it's such an odd shape. I thought about sanding it smooth and turning it into a shelf or a wall hanging of some sort, but it didn't seem fitting somehow. Jim suggested I mount grandpa's pruners on it. I had to think about that for a while though. I decided it was a pretty good idea but I didn't think the pruners would fit. Today I placed the pruners on the plank and discovered that they did indeed fit. I drilled three holes and mounted the pruners with some thin wire. I found the picture of grandpa pruning an apple tree in one of my photo albums and mounted it between the handles where it seems to fit perfectly. It's just taped there for now until I can find a suitable mounting method for it.

Isn't it odd that this piece of apple wood seemed destined to hold grandpa's pruners? It's a perfect fit and I can't help but think that this was somehow preordained. Jim even says it's "perfect" and that it seems that the wood was made for the pruners.

Those pruners and I have a history. I've had them since I was a young adult when mom gave them to me. She knew I'd appreciate having them since I spent so much time with grandpa out in the orchard talking with him while he pruned trees. He explained how and why to prune and I learned by watching his skilled hands shape hundreds of apple trees into top-producers.

I wish grandpa was around to see where his pruners are now. I like to think he'd be pleased with what I've done with them.

The Stories It Could Tell

...if only it could speak. I'm quite certain I spent time in this tree as a child too, just as Derek is here. I've climbed each and every one of the original apple trees that my grandpa cared for on his portion of the orchard which was located in his large back yard. I would estimate this tree's age to be at least 60 to 65 years old. There is only one row left of the old ones, the original trees. How sad to see them succumb to the effects of old age. Sixty is very old for a fruit tree. They still produce though, a testament to my grandfather's diligent care. I spent many hours in the orchards with him and he taught me how to prune and showed me how to graft. He was a bonsai master on a grand scale. I never learned how to graft but I can prune well enough.

I asked Derek what it felt like to stand by a 60 year old apple tree and he said, "It's big!" I was just happy to see the fourth generation of tree lover standing next to this tree his great-grandfather took care of.

The Pumphouse

Built by my grandfather, it was once used to fill the tanks that were used to spray the orchard for fungus and insects that could ruin the crop of fruit each season. The tractor pulled up alonside the pumphouse and opened the lid for the spray tank behind it. A pull of the rope and hundreds of gallons of water would quickly fill the spray tank. They'd close the lid and off they'd go to spray the orchards. The spray was yellowish/green and had a bad smell to it. I stayed away from the orchards for a few days after a heavy spray just to give it a chance to dissipate.

The pumphouse is no longer operational but it is kept as a family heirloom of sorts. I'm glad my cousins had the foresight to preserve it for future generations, like my son Derek here.