200 year-old house on 25 rocky acres in high country upstate NY and SO many highbush blueberries!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Apples and Things
Here's what's happening with my apples. What you see are some experiments: the far right bag are McIntosh apple slices, dried after being dunked in lemon water (to retard darkening). The middle bag is Cortland apples, dunked in lemon water, the leftmost apples are Cortland, not dunked in lemon water. The slices didn't darken, but there's a little less *zing* in the flavor.
The McIntosh are almost gone for the year. We had a windy storm last week and a bunch of apples fell. I went to pick some up the other day and most of them are partially rotted already. The Cortland apples are looking great! Unfortunately those don't cook well - which is why we're into drying these days. I considered trying to root cellar some apples, but all the literature on the topic says that the apples to be stored should be perfect, and I don't have any of those. There's no such thing as a perfect apple on this 'stead.
Sharon Astyk, who writes a blog called Casaubon's Book, wrote about re-evaluating her life today. Her stuff, is normally pretty dense, weighty and doom-y so I don't read it often, but the topic of reevaluating is hot for me these days. She talks about reevaluating on several aspects, but the aspect that strikes me is community, something I totally ignored when I bought this place, but have been struggling to find. I wrote a blog post almost exactly a year ago saying that I was going to find comunity, darn it, even if I had to drive an extra hour and a half every day (or something like that). We'll I've tried the whole "drive an extra hour and a half a day just to be part of a tribe" and it doesn't work. I wonder why I didn't learn that lesson when I lived in a similar situation in South Carolina. The lesson is Live Where You Want to Spend Your Time. Not 45 minutes away. Not an hour away. Actually, when I had the apartment in The Hague, I knew I'd want to be in the Centrum, so that's where I got my apartment. I'm only dumb sometimes, like when I want to totally change my life to something I've never done before! Alone. In the woods. Leaving my family shaking their heads in curiousity. OK, OK, we'll call it optimism, not totally dumb.
I am finally beginning to give myself permission to not try and do everything all at once, by myself out here, alone in the woods. What I feel is relieved. That ... and sad.