warm to the touch

I brag from time to time here and elsewhere about the big apple tree in our yard, which we grew from a seed and which blesses us with tasty apples--even though there's no reason that should be the case: apples don't grow true to seed, so if you grow an apple tree from a seed, there's no telling what you'll get. I don't remember what kind of apple's seed I planted. But it grew into a three-trunked tree that towers over us now. And deer come and eat the windfalls.

Today wakanomori and I collected as many apples as we could reach for our own use.



I won't have time to make any pies in the next few days, because the ninja girl is coming for a visit from Japan , and the ninja girl heartily detests apples. So I just processed a whole bunch of them (peeled them, cut out bad bits, sliced them) and froze them for later. They were so warm to the touch! They felt extra alive--like they were still out in the sun. Made me want to just hold them, or rub them against my cheek.

They just grow, all on their own, without any chemical inputs from me--with no inputs from me whatsoever, except for words of extravagant praise and love from time to time.

But look how beautiful they can be: this apple was especially beautiful. It had two very different face, like the apple Snow White bit into: