When I was a kid, my siblings, friends, and I thought we were bad ass. We would stick out our tongues, hold them in our thumb and forefinger and then say, "Apple" ("Pirate ship" was another favorite, but it doesn't fit this post). In our minds, it was hilarious and, of course, no adult would ever figure out our little trick to cussing.
Okay, maybe none of that has to do with this post, but it mentions "apples" and that's good enough for me.
It's fall (unless you happen to be a southern hemisphere reader) and with that comes all things apple and pumpkin. My Facebook feed has transitioned into fall with posts about football, pumpkin patches, corn mazes, and, of course, apples. I've seen families on outings to orchards and fruit farms. Apple fritters, cider, and caramel apples abound.
You are probably saying, "Who cares?" Well, no one, probably, except me. But, it's my blog, and I can write about apples as much as I want, so there (see, in someways, I'm still that little kid from above)!
All of this apple stuff reminded me of something I haven't thought about in years. Now, when thinking about it, I can't believe I ever forgot. When I was a kid, my family would drive out to my grandparents' house. It seemed like such a long drive and kind of in the "country." On the road was this tiny, country store. I'm not sure what the name was because we just called it, "The Apple Lady's." (Picture a scaled back, de-cheese-ified Cracker Barrel "store.") It was fascinating! She sold old fashioned stick candy (I was always partial to the root beer flavored) and fruit leather. I thought fruit leather sounded gross, but it was delicious. It's what fruit roll-ups would like to be, but just can't seem to get it right. Obviously, it wouldn't be right to stop at The Apple Lady's without getting apples. A purchase of apples could mean my mom would be making homemade applesauce! Store bought applesauce can never compare to fresh, warm, homemade. I can practically smell and taste it right now!
So, thank you Heather for sharing on Facebook about your dad wanting to take your kids to get apples for making homemade applesauce. Now, I'm off to make an apple pie.