The closest we'll get

If you can't take your child to the orchard, bring the orchard to your child.

My friend Joy's parents own an orchard in Piegon, Michigan. It's close to Bad Axe, Michigan. That really doesn't mean anything, but I think it's a fantastic name for a town.

Anyway, when she comes to visit in late summer/fall/early winter, she always brings treats. Which results in me eating way too many donuts. She brought apples, caramel, jelly (they were out of the apple butter which was crushing news), licorice, and other goodies.

We've had lots of apples sliced like french fries (I like dipping them in caramel better that way) and apple cobbler this week. It was the first time I had ever attempted apple cobbler and it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Except the recipe called for cutting butter into flour. I HATE cutting butter into things. I thought having a tool for it would help, but it doesn't. I still hate it.



Last year at this time, Jack had an allergic reaction to raw apples, but they don't seem to bother him now. The apples are in a bag at the bottom of our pantry and one day this week, Jack just strolled into our living room eating one like he was a teenage boy who had just found himself a snack.