Beauty is more than skin deep.
– often quoted by my mother to her four girls
Yesterday, while the sun was shining, I was picking the last of the apples off my neighbor's ancient apple tree. They were a far cry from the perfectly polished, unblemished apples that you find at the grocery. Misformed and splotchy they might be; but once I peeled and cored the apples, and cut out the bad spots, they filled my crockpot to the brim. Now the aroma of bubbling applesauce is filling my kitchen.
Tomorrow morning, Ed will get up early and patiently cook a pot of steel-cut oats, stirring every five minutes for what seems like a very long time. I'll get up late and enjoy a bowl of homemade oatmeal with warm applesauce on top. Can't wait.
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