Yesterday for breakfast, I had a red rome apple on my way quickly out the door to get to church in time for choir rehearsal. While the apple is more of a cooking apple than an eating apple, I get them this time of year because they remind me of my Grandfather Borders. He lived in Scioto County, Ohio, and was a farmer. Everyone, including his children, called him "Pop." His wife was "Mom."
Mom and Pop had a small clutch of apple trees, maybe six or so, and every September the trees dropped many, many apples. The boys and men of our family would gather the apples and the women and girls would make apple butter, apple sauce, and cooked apples, canning it in greenish Ball jars for the winter. On those Saturday events, Mom's house smelled happily of cinnamon and apples, while the windows were fully steamed up all day from the big pots of boiling water on the wood burning stove.
Pop would call the grandchildren over to the back porch and sitting on an old wooden chair painted white many times, Pop would peel a red rome apple using his pocket knife in one long peel. Around and around the apple, he would cut at just the right depth under the skin to keep the peel intact; I never saw him break it.
He would tell us that those red rome apple trees in the corner of the field had been planted by Johnny Appleseed. Now, I knew that Pop was a big kidder and practical joker, but I think he was sincere in telling us this.
Of course at the time, I was not sure that there had been an actual Johnny Appleseed, but later I knew that there had been. His real name was John Chapman and he lived until 1845. He began spreading his seeds and creating nurseries around 1796 in Pennsylvania. Many people believe that he was in Jackson County, Ohio in 1801, the county that borders Scioto County to the North, so Pop's trees could have been Johnny Appleseed trees.
The trees are no longer there, nor are my Grandparents, but great memories still are carried by me and my cousins. Oh, and try as I may, I have only peeled an apple with one peeling once; probably in too much of a hurry.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment