As I put out my pumpkins the other day, I realized that I was pre-maturely moving into pumpkin season. I forgot about apples. Unforgivable considering my Washington state (apple capital of the world) roots. The September of my youth was spent picking apples in our orchard and pressing them into cider with our neighbors, adorned in bell bottoms and flannels.
There's a 70's neighborhood co-op picture for ya.
Just to confirm the situation, John brought me my Sunset magazine yesterday and pointed to the Apple-crisp baked apples with a "I want to make these." Those words don't come out of my husbands mouth. Ever. So apples it is.
1 comment:
I just needed to say that I miss you. I love all your blog posts. Wish we lived closer but am glad we are friends. Happy Sunday night Jen.
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