Smells Like Home

I normally have several pictures from the annual event.  Pictures of apples on trees, pictures of LM picking his first apple. Pictures of LM eating his third apple.  Pictures of bushels and bushels of apples. 

But when we went to the orchard this year, it was raining.  Not just raining, pouring.  Not just pouring, but it had been raining for more than 24 hours and would continue to rain for another 24 after that.  It was a muddy, mucky, rainy mess.  Fortunately for us, it wasn't cold.

We could have waited another weekend.  We could have gone this past weekend instead of the one before when we needed Noah along to help us navigate through the flood.  But the 13th is when they were opening the orchard to pick Honey Crisp apples.  And we only wanted Honey Crisp apples. And if we didn't pick on the 13th, they would be gone.

(I took this picture just this weekend.  Not in the pouring rain, obviously.  But you can see the varieties of apples available and that the honey crisp are long gone.)

We weren't the only crazy ones.  Our car was 20 cars back in line just to get in to the orchard.  But we came prepared.   With a borrowed wagon and bags from last year's pick, we were in and out in less than a half hour.  Out with 140 pounds of apples.  

And we were soaked.  But we were laughing.  And I wouldn't trade the memories for the world.

In a week's time, I canned 49 jars of applesauce and baked one apple pie (by request of LM).  

I cannot put into words the joy I get from canning.  I love it.  I love the smell in the house.  I love the feeling of accomplishment, slow but sure.  I love lining up the jars in my pantry.  I love peeling apple after apple.  I just love it.  Maybe it makes me feel like a good mother.  Maybe it makes me feel like a good wife (lacking the husband).  Maybe it just makes me appreciate God's creation.  Short of digging in dirt in the spring, there is nothing that comforts my soul like canning applesauce.