As we drove on the golfcart Saturday afternoon, I was taken back some 40 years and around 300 miles to the north. The pair of Flowering Crab Apple trees were planted to the east side of the house in Daylight. Oscar Womack had given Dad the trees when they were just skinny sticks. They served as the outfielders when I would toss a ball into the air and strike it with the bat that Uncle James turned for me on his lathe. Their scent would fill the yard as bees would gather pollen and nectar. The sweet/sour marble sized apples of fall give me my taste for lip puckering foods today. And the jelly... buckets of Crab Apples stewed down with enough sugar to give you an instant case of insulin shock, place into pint jars and placed into the kitchen cabinet for spreading onto a hot biscuit.
I wonder if they are still standing?!?!
1 comment:
Bob, thanks for telling me what my tree is. There are lots of bees hovering around it right now, and it is beautiful.
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