Our neighbor invited us over to pick apples from his trees which we did as soon as it stopped raining, taking eggs to offer in exchange. First stop was in the barn to see the cats (there are many)  while Billy and Paul talked for a minute about the quality of hay that has been rained on repeatedly. Luckily, it isn’t our hay this time. The ground was so soft from the rain, any apples that dropped sunk into the sod. We sent the girls up and caught the ones they threw down which filled three bags and makes me feel a little less guilty about keeping the stove going this time of year. Apple sauce is bubbling as I write.

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