Apples, apples and more apples

One of the things I love most about the fall, and miss the most about Washington are the apples!  They are just so fresh, and crisp and juicy and even better with some carmel wrapped around them.  My family and I have great memories of picking apples at the WSU orchard and eating them until we thought we were going to pop!  This fall, apples have been tormenting me for weeks!
One of the ladies I visit teach has an apple tree in her yard and brought me a bag of them!  Hip-Hip-Hooray!  I was thrilled!  I peeled them, sliced them, cut them and bottled them.  "Job well done!" I said to myself! 

Then my neighbor asked me if I could use some apples.  I didn't know how to say No.  I am horrible at it.

I just can't do it.  So I said yes, picturing in my mind all the while a grocery sack full of apples.  Then she said "Have Brian come over to pick them up.  They are too heavy for you to lift."  That should have given me a clue right there, but it didn't.  It was a little thing called denial.  Brian lugged in a 50 pound box of apples later that night.  "What are you going to do with all of these?" he asked.  I just wimpered.

Each day that went by I prayed the apples would leave.  I love them but I just didn't have time.  They ripened every day I tried to shun them until the smell of apples was too much to take and I resolved to take them on.  The next day I came home from work, and saw that my husband had bought me a food dehydrator. 

I was reluctantly thrilled, and gathered my courage to face them.  Erin Jo, Celeste and I cranked out enough apples to fill not only my dehydrator but one we also borrowed from a different neighbor.  Once both dryers were full, I looked in the box of apples with satisfaction that turned to dismay when I realized I hadn't even made a dent in the mass of fruit.  Then I whimpered.

I knew I was down to my last few quart jars, and so drying was the only option.  I dried another batch, and was begining to feel succes.  The next day was Sunday and the same apple neighbor approached me.  I smiled as she came nearer, totally niave to what she was about to ask.  She had more apples and just couldn't do anymore.  Would I take the rest of her apples. It wasn't a full box, she promised me, only the bottom of one.   I wasn't going to do it.  I couldn't do it.  Every fiber within me screamed "NO!"   But then I heard her whimper, and that part of me that can't say no kicked in.  This time I went and got the box of apples myself, afraid that Brian would think I was Mentally insane.

She had given me 6 quart jars (as a peace offering I think) so I peeled and sliced and cut and canned and dried until I thought I was going to sprout leaves, and grow roots right there in the kitchen.  But it was done.  Finally finished!  Over!  Complete!  Thank heaves!  12 quarts and 15 ziploc bags of apples later I was finally free from the bonds of apples.  Now if I can just get my family to eat them!

Wait a minute, whats in that bag in the corner?