Appletastic

Does anyone else love apples as much as I do this time of year?

To me, it just isn't fall without an apple-scented candle burning in the kitchen and some sort of apple-based treat on the brain.

Sunday, the kids, Disgruntled Husband and I went up to Ski-Hi apple orchard to procure some treats of autumn. Except I forgot my wallet so DH had to fund the apple trip. We bought a five pound bag of yellow apples, because it was either that or Jonathans at this point in the season.

I am always disappointed that they don't have pick-your-own there. It's a cool place, but it would be that much cooler if I could get my own fruit.

Maybe it's just the suburbanite in me. I have such fond memories of apple picking from when I was a kid. I was in Indian Princesses with my dad, and it seemed like every fall they had an apple picking outing. We'd head up to Wauconda (I guess they have a lot of orchards up there, I haven't been since I was 9) and bond with our dads over ladders and bees and cider. We'd take a bushel or so home and Mom would transform our bounty into all sorts of apple goodies...specifically, I remember apple crisp, but I think there was also pie and sauce.

So when I met Disgruntled Husband and we found ourselves in the burbs during a fall break (I was in college, he was in law school), I suggested what a wonderful and romantic outing it would be to head on up to Wauconda and pick some apples.

This is the look I got:

Apparently, in Amish-town Iowa (where he's from), apple picking is not an enjoyable activity.
His quote exactly: "So, you want me to pay someone to do their CHORES??"

Uh...yes?

He told me stories about his family selling apples on the side of the road in the 70s. In the 80s and 90s, it was his chore (Note: About the only chore he had to do, as evidence by his lack of house-cleaning knowledge) to pick up the apples that had fallen on the lawn before he mowed. Well, actually, I'm not sure he actually mowed...but he had to pick up the apples. There were bees and sticky apples and ants and volcanoes, VD, and poisonous dart frogs all around them.

So, no, we did not go. I have three kids. They've never been either.

(Oddly, he doesn't have this same idea about pumpkins. Probably because he didn't have to pick up fallen pumpkins as a kid. I try and tell him it's the same concept about chores, but he chooses to ignore me.)

And, to top it all off, he doesn't particularly like apples. Which I think is weird.

I love apples so much, I wanted to incorporate apples in my wedding bouquets and center pieces. My mother, the main floral designer and full-floral funder, gave me a cockeyed look and completely ignored me.

(I got married September 22, 2001. So it's not that far off to have apples as a wedding theme. At least in my head. Wanna know what color the bridesmaids dresses were? Apple. Thanks, David's Bridal.)

I made an apple pie with most of my yellow apples and it was flipping awesome. I think. I had one piece. The kids had one piece each. And what did I find in my sink last night? An empty pie plate.

I thought he didn't like apples.

(Note: So if anyone wants to get me some apples off your personal orchard, I will gladly take them off your hands. And then make you something apple-y. Promise.)