Ketchup

Last Sunday Greer, Erin, Bill, Eliza, and I piled into the car and drove up to Big Fork for a cider press. When we stepped out of the car, it was like walking down the road into an LL Bean catalogue. There was golden afternoon sunlight, leaves everywhere, children running all over the place laughing and wrestling, live music coming from the garage, and the hum of small talk. Add to that a spectrum of fuzzy hats, gloves, and scarves, various jackets and vests, but no heavy coats, and no bitter cold. It was the perfect fall afternoon.

We took turns slicing apples, cutting out wormy bits, sorting them and tossing them into clean water, and Eliza took her hand at cranking the press, which was old, and from Kentucky. There were wheelbarrows full of apple mush, the remnants after all the juice has been forced out, and I expect the neighborhood deer were looking forward to a nice dinner, as the mush was going to be scattered throughout the trees later in the evening.

It was just as fall should be. I have a few photos on Bill's cellphone, when I talk him into giving them to me, I'll put them up.

EDIT: Here they are!