We know when it is truly Autumn, its when Spud the dog’s ratio of tennis balls to windfall apples, that he leaves lying around the house is 2:1 in favour of apples.
They are something of a health hazard, one of these days, it will the incident with the toy fire engine all over again, which as I painfully remember resulted in a very bruised coccyx, rather than a cox
I’ve turned into a something of a mad apple lady, we have so many, the branches are straining under the weight of them and we’ve four trees.
I don’t seem to be able to make any inroads into them at all. I’ve become obsessed, everywhere I go I have a basket or box of apples with me. Please take my lovely apples friends, colleagues neighbours, the ladies at exercise class, no one can say no. (I could try standing on street corners I suppose, a bit like like the man with the yards of lettuce).
Mind you, picking them is not without its hazards (Spud has to stay indoors, he runs off with them, and no one seems to keen on apples with canine teeth marks) On trying to reach the biggest and rosiest apples, for my friend Mrs McN, the ones right from the top of the tree, one hit me in the face, I’ve an apple green bruise on my cheek… it’s ripening nicely