Apple Season

Nanna and Pappa's apples are ripe, so we spent today making applesauce, dried apples and fruit leather.

Oliver got to climb the apple tree. While spotting him (he's never really climbed a tree before) I was reminiscing that I remember when these trees were planted; I was probably about his age. They weren't of climbing height back then.

Elsa desperately wanted to climb as well...until she realized she was up high, the branches were poky and she had to hold on herself. She opted to keep her feet on the ground.


Howie was a big help as well...


Seven or so hours of apple cleaning, machining, and cooking and I came home with a huge bowlful waiting to be canned and enjoyed over the winter. We made both chunky-with-honey and smooth-with-sugar versions with the thought that my little Howie will be big enough to enjoy the smooth version in only a few months, while the rest of us really like the chunky style. The evening ended with fresh, warm, homemade applesauce topped with vanilla ice cream. Absolutely delish!

Crisp!

Fall came quickly in this neck of the woods. Cold evenings and chilly days have been the rule lately. We've been busy, living life.


The last of the garden harvest is waiting to be picked. We sold 52 pumpkins to the local grocer earlier this week. (If any locals are looking for a few pumpkins, we have many left overs!)


Eric planted these giant sunflowers this year. Some are over 11 ft tall, and have been wonderfully cheerful to look at all summer. He has an itch to roast the seeds, something we haven't tried before. If we do them all, I think we'll have plenty of seeds!

To the left of the kids are three rows of potatoes, a row of carrots, what's left of the onions and some tomatoes (if they survive!). To the right are the pumpkins and some squash, all waiting to be harvested. Yum. We had a great year in the garden (with a bumper crop of weeds, as you can see!) and I'm already missing the fresh, delicious days of August. Mmmm.

I'm crying UNCLE!

That's it. I've determined finding the bottom of the laundry pile is simply not possible. Day before yesterday I thought it was getting close, but it has evaded me again.

It could be because the daughter has had accidents the last two nights...while ever so conveniently positioned upon ALL of both of the kids blankets, meaning they all.have.to.be.washed.

And because the spin cycle of the washer only clicks on with small loads...meaning I can wash a total of four, yes 4, towels (or the equivalent) in a load...unless I want to wring them out by hand.

Either way, I'm crying uncle to that amoeba of a laundry pile.

UNCLE!

...If you don't hear from me in a few, please come check...I may be drowning. In laundry.

They got the boot...

You may remember the arrival of these a few weeks ago...cute, fuzzy, itty-bitty little kittens.


Itty and bitty are quickly becoming larger and more adventurous...looking outside the box they've been living in to the great world of the porch.

So yesterday morning, Elsa and I moved them outside. They were utterly terrified to begin with.

We set up a house of sorts, with their familiar cardboard box, a rubbermaid tote and a piece of plywood. Cat-house thrifty style. (Aren't those kittens cute? You know you want one!)

And they quickly became curious about the bright world and *gasp* dog outside. Because we've kept them in their box until now, it was quite hilarious to watch them trying to coordinate their legs and bodies to run in a larger space. Imagine a drunk kitten.

Mama cat, Thelma was less impressed with the move. Her and Rena (the dog) are at odds, and she prowled the house mewing for a few hours before I shoved her in the box and blocked the doorway. She seemed to get the picture, as they're all cuddled up together, in the box, this morning!