Archive for September, 2010

The Applesauce

First things first.  Apparently our kid is going to be a Hoosier, according to The Poll from yesterday.  At least according to 66% of you.  And this is a democracy; I’m pretty sure that’s a margin that would even fly in Congress to pass a major bill.  So…she’s a Hoosier.

Now about the applesauce.

On Tuesday, Angel and I picked a bajillion apples.  OK, well, not a full bajillion but however many apples fit into a bushel.  They were extremely heavy and uncooperative (at one point, my full bag became possessed by the Apple Gremlins and spilled down the hill; I had to go chase after the stupid little things and I never did find them all.)

All told, I think I got about 42 lbs of apples and paid $24.00 for them.  Not bad, even though I had to re-pick the Golden Delicious bag.

With 42 lbs of apples, something Very Specific must be done with them.  Applesauce and apple butter were my plan.  That’s why this morning I woke up at 7 (although didn’t get myself out of bed until 8:00 because all my limbs felt like they were made of cast iron) and found myself at Wally World at 8:45 trying to find canning jars.  Then I went back to Angel’s house, where since 9:30 I have been making a royal mess of her kitchen.

I bought something like 48 jars, and I think they’ll be full by the end of the day.  At least the applesauce ones, the apple butter will have to wait until tomorrow because I have to simmer it all night once I get home.  I may have gone a little gangbusters, but I was thinking “hmm, the child will eat applesauce soon…” as I was standing in the canning jars aisle. I figure I can return a package if I don’t use it.

The apple peeler bit me in the thumb, and now I have a disgusting blood blister and bruise.  I’m not even sure how it happened.  I tried to re-create the situation and none of my attempts worked.

There are still oodles of apples to peel before we can be finished with the icky part (which is the peeling) and move on to the fun part, which is squashing up the peeled and cooked apples.  But according to my calculations, it takes 30 seconds to peel a single and slice the average apple and we still have…lots left.  Probably an hour and a half, actually.

A bushel is a lot.  It sounds really small but it’s really not.  It’s a lot.

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Sorry. Another poll, but it had to be done.

Last night, as we were hanging up curtain rods and draperies, Joey said, “So…is our daughter going to be a Texan or a Hoosier?”

And I was all, um…I don’t know, dude.

“Technically, we’re Hawkeyes,” Joey said.

“Not me, I’m not.” I said.  (I don’t like the University of Iowa.  Herky is lame; he scared me when I was a kid once.)

“You still are even if you don’t like the U of I.  Iowa was nicknamed the Hawkeye State before the University of Iowa had the Hawkeye mascot,” Joey said patiently.

“I’m still not,” I insisted.  ”I only say nice things about the U of I when I’m talking about them with my Pops.  Otherwise, I hate it categorically.”

Joey gave up after that.

The point is, though, our daughter was lab created in Dallas and she lived (in an embryonic state) in an actual Petri dish in an actual building for five whole days before being poofed back into me.  So…she has Texas on her already.  However, she will be born in Indiana and actually do the whole breathing and eating thing up here.

We never could make a decision on her state affiliation status, so I thought I’d put it up for a vote.  Democracy being the American way and suchlike.

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