Submitted to: Contest #63

Apple of My Eye (sequel to "Reunion")

Written in response to: "Write about two characters going apple picking."

Drama Romance Black

As it got closer to mid-October, the leaves turned from green to yellow, orange, red, and pink, as if the trees were on fire. I couldn't remember another Autumn as beautiful as this one was. All too soon the leaves would all turn to brown, but until then I was going to try to enjoy every moment.


My daughter heard me whistling in my bedroom as I got dressed. My tie was being difficult as I tried to tie it. But even that didn't bother me much.


She came in, smiled, and said, “I haven't seen or heard you be this happy in a very long time, Pa.”


“I'm going apple-picking today,” I said.


“With Sunny?” Cat asked.


I nodded. “Do you think you could babysit her kids for us? If it isn't too much trouble.”


She finished tying my tie. “It isn't. I'm just glad you can be together again.”


“Want me to bring you back anything from the orchard?” I asked.


Cat looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Apples. See if they have any Fujis, Granny Smiths, Jonathans, or Staymans.”


“What about a mixture of them?” I asked.


She nodded again. “Hope you have fun, Pa.”


The orchard was at a farm in a hilly area a few miles south of Dandridge. This was the Ingrams Farm. Well-known to locals. We watched as couples as well as families carried baskets out of the building and crossed the road.


“When was the last time that we did this?” Sunny asked. “It feels like far too long.”


“I'm not sure,” I said. “Maybe back when we were in 8th or 9th grade?”


“Definitely too long,” she said. “You wouldn't believe how envious my kids were when I told them where we were going. They wanted to come along. Especially Ruth. She loves coming here every October to pick her very own pumpkin.”


“Maybe next time we can bring her along, or all three of them,” I said.


“Sounds like a plan,” she said.


We got out of the car and saw a sign on the outside of the farm stand's building that said: Annual Ingrams Farm Corn Maze. Have fun and get lost in our amazing maze. $1 admission. Free maze maps.


“I hope they don't mean 'get lost' in a literal sense,” I said.


“Probably more like getting lost in a good book, Quentin,” Sunny said. “You want to try it?”


“What about after we pick our apples?” I suggested.


She nodded. “We can drop our baskets back at the car and head off to the maze. I wonder if they still do the wagon rides.”


They did. As we learned when we asked about the maze and the rides inside the farm stand's building. They were very helpful, showing us where the baskets and corn maze were, as well as how often the wagon rides were. They added that this year's bumper crop of apples was the biggest they'd had in over twenty years.


We thanked them, and, baskets in hand, crossed the road and entered the orchard. The nearby trees were mostly picked empty. We walked further into the orchard where the apples were still plentiful. Some were still on branches. Others had fallen on the ground.


I found three of the four types of apples that Cat had mentioned. But no Jonathans. Probably already picked clean.


We walked over a low ridge and then down the other side. Ahead, off to one side of the orchard, was a pond. There were about a dozen ducks in the water. Above us, we could see one V of migrating birds after another, heading south for the Winter.


“I guess some of them get started early because they have further to go,” I said.


Sunny nodded. “Some fly for thousands of miles. I couldn't imagine traveling so far until the year when I met up with Leonard in Greece. He had two weeks of vacation before he had to be back on duty in Afghanistan. It was definitely worth the time it took both of us to get there.”


“Like the birds, you did it because you needed to,” I said.


Sunny nodded again and looked thoughtful. “I've often wondered what would've happened if he hadn't signed up for another tour of duty in Afghanistan. Would he have been sent somewhere else or would they have let him come back home for a while?”


“Depends on how much they needed him, I guess,” I said.


She nodded a third time. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't dredge up the past like that.”


“Nothing to apologize for,” I said. “It's part of your life. That would be like me wondering about Yvonne.”


“Your wife?” she asked.


I nodded. “We were married just ten years. Ten of the happiest years of my adult life. Especially after Cat was born. We celebrated all the holidays together. Including making cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve.”


Sunny smiled. “I hope you didn't eat too many of them.”


“I probably did,” I said. “Yvonne was an amazing cook. Especially when it came to desserts. Her cinnamon shortbread cookies were out of this world.”


She looked at me, and then said, “Let's find a bench to sit on.”


Around the pond there was a wooden bench every fifty or so feet. We sat down on one, put our baskets of apples on the ground at our feet, and looked at the ducks.


“I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable,” I said.


“What do you mean?” Sunny asked.


“When I mentioned Yvonne,” I said.


“She was part of your life,” she said. “It's like when I mentioned Leonard. Just because he isn't around anymore doesn't mean I'm not thinking about him. But, as time has gone by, I find I don't think of him quite as much as I used to. It almost feels like I'm being disrespectful of his memory.”


“I think he'd understand,” I said. “Yvonne would.”


“Do you dream about her?” she asked.


I nodded. “Especially in the middle of the night, when my deeper thoughts rise to the surface, and there's Yvonne, floating in mid-air, looking at me. That familiar smile on her face. Those deep dark eyes.”


“Does she ever say anything to you?” Sunny asked.


I nodded. “She asks how things are. How Cat is. How I am. And I tell her. Like Cat, she kept hoping I would find someone new. Someone to bring new thoughts, feelings, and experiences into my life. That way I wouldn't be tempted to dwell on Yvonne so much.”


“Do you ever tell her about me?” she asked.


I shook her head. “But from the sounds of it, she seemed to know about you anyway. Maybe that's how it works wherever she and Leonard are.”


“Maybe,” she said. “I've had nights like that. Dreaming about Leonard, talking with him. He would be dressed in his Air Force uniform. Crew-cut hair. So tall and handsome. But, like Yvonne, he wanted me to be happy again. Happy like he and I had been. Not alone anymore.”


“Did he know about me?” I asked. “When he was alive, I mean.”


Sunny nodded. “He asked if I'd dated before I first met him. I said, well, not really. I had a male best friend. Someone I'd known since at least 1st grade. But we lost contact with each other after graduating from high school. I talked about you. And then he'd tell me about the girls he'd known. I guess it had taken him longer to find the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with than it had taken me.”


“I didn't date much, either,” I said, “until I met Yvonne. I was busy in college. Making sure I took all the prerequisites and then finding out that medical school wasn't for me. I switched majors and prepared to go to law school. There wasn't much time for socializing amid all that.”


“I can understand,” she said. “I was planning to major in something more typical, like History or English. But then I began to spend more and more time in one of the computer rooms on campus. At first, I thought maybe I was subconsciously looking for possible date material. And then it hit me that not only could I use computers, but I liked using them. Learning computer programs, how to write them, how to debug them. The computer room's network engineer took me on, and started teaching me what he did.”


“No science, then?” I asked.


Sunny shook her head. “You remember me talking about that?”


I nodded. “That and engineering. The day we went to the park. Which was also the day you started tutoring me.”


“I remember,” she said, laughing softly. “What a student you were. At first, I had to struggle to get you through the basic material. But once you got the hang of that, it just kept getting easier for you. I always knew that you were smart. What you just needed was some confidence in yourself. The belief that you could excel in just about any subject you were interested in.”


“Kind of like what happened with Cat,” I said. “Like me and my father and grandfather, she wasn't even a good student. Mostly a poor one, if you went by her grades. But I knew she could do better. She just needed the right kind of support and encouragement. Or, as you put it, confidence in herself. The proof came when I helped her with an essay on the history and consequences of Slavery. I helped her write it, and then went to school with her on the day she had to read it aloud to her classmates and their teacher.”


“How did she do?” she asked.


“She got an A+,” I said.


“Wonderful!” she said. “Be honest with me. Did you help her write it?”


I shook my head. “I did discuss the subject with her. But she wrote the entire essay herself.”


Sunny didn't look convinced.


“She did,” I insisted. “Really. I didn't write any of it down.”


“And she wrote what you said, I'd imagine,” she said.


“I checked it after she wrote it,” I said. “It was definitely in her words, not in mine. I wouldn't dream of helping her cheat, Sunny. After all, if I did all the work for her, she wouldn't have learned anything. I've always insisted that she has to do her best. Her best. Not anyone else's.”


“I believe you now, Quentin,” she said. “And I'm glad you cared enough to help her.”


“Not only that, but she's going to be the next lawyer in the family,” I said.


“Oh?” she said, surprised.


I nodded. “She's quite determined and wants to help people and be their voice in a court of law.”


“No scuffles in court, I hope,” she said with a grin.


“I told her that if she's punches anyone, she'll find out that a court of law isn't the same as the schoolyard during recess,” I said. “She seems to understand. I think she's going to do just fine.”


“Definitely,” Sunny said and stood up. “Come on. Let's do the corn maze and take a wagon ride before it gets too late.”


The corn maze wasn't difficult. Of course, using the free map helped. Sunny didn't get lost once. I was the one who kept worrying about getting lost. After we finished it, she said she almost wondered why I bothered to go through the corn maze if I wasn't willing to risk getting lost even once.


The wagon ride was more fun than the corn maze was. The farmer gave everyone a mug of hot cider and then we climbed up into the wagon and found a spot to sit down in. Then he started up the tractor and it pulled the wagon behind it around most of the farm. It was a little bumpy at times, but that was okay.


When we got back to the farm stand's building, we were among the last visitors. The sun was already down below the treetops in the orchard and the sky was getting dark.


I wanted to get something for Sunny's children, though, before we left. I walked from counter to counter and up one aisle and down the other, trying to decide what to get.


“You don't have to, really,” she said. “I mean, it's not like we're married or even just dating.” She paused and looked at me. “Or are we? Dating, I mean.”


“Not yet,” I said, then changed the subject. “What do you think they'd like? A pie? Maybe some homemade root beer? A bag of kettle corn?”


With Sunny's help, I bought a selection of things. We put them and the baskets of apples in the trunk of the car, and drove back to her house.


When we arrived, Cat and Sunny's kids were downstairs in the den. Ruth ran up the stairs first and gave her mom a hug. Next came Esther, then Solomon, and finally Cat.


“Have fun today?” I asked them.


They nodded.


“How about you two?” Solomon asked.


“I think we had fun,” I said and looked at Sunny.


“Definitely,” she said. “And we've brought some stuff back for all of you. Come on up to the kitchen.”


In the kitchen, we emptied the two full bags of food and the two baskets of apples.


“Does this mean you're staying for dinner again?” Ruth asked.


Sunny glanced at her, as if about to shush her and then decided not to.


“If we're invited,” I said.


“Are they, Mom?” Ruth asked. “Please?”


“It's okay with me, Mom,” Esther said and Solomon nodded agreement.


“Likewise,” Cat said.


Sunny looked at each of them, and then at me. “If you really want to, Quentin.”


I couldn't tell whether she was really in favor of it or not. But she was leaving the decision up to me.


“Yes, please,” I said.


Cat looked at the two baskets of apples. “You picked more than enough for a pie. That is, if anyone wants pie for dessert?”


Sunny's children's hands shot up. I added my hand to theirs.


“I have a cookbook with some really good dessert recipes,” Sunny told Cat. “If you can make the pie, my kids and I can handle the rest.”


“What about Pa?” Cat asked her.


“I could set the table,” I offered.


“I'll show you where everything is,” Ruth said, taking me by the hand and leading me to the dining room. Together we set the table, and then she went back to the kitchen.


I wandered over to the living room and sat on the couch, on the end near the fireplace. In between the couch and the fireplace was a photo album. I picked it up, laid it in my lap, and opened it. The dates for the index of photos ranged from high school to college. I glanced in the direction of the talking and noises in the kitchen. Maybe Sunny wouldn't mind if I just skimmed through it.


Like someone browsing the books on a bookshelf, I just glanced at most of the photos. A few looked familiar and I recognized them as part of the photos on Sunny's Facebook page. The rest were new to me. Her parents, who I'd met while in grade school, were in some of them. Especially the high school graduation photos and the college graduation photos.


But among the high school photos were some I didn't remember being taken. I was in some of them.


Sunny leaned out of the kitchen doorway, saw me, and what was in my lap. She had something in one hand. I couldn't tell what it was.


I closed the photo album. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been nosy.”


“That's all right.” She came over, hiding what she was holding behind her back. “I have a few minutes free. How were the photos?”


“Really nice,” I said. “You were even prettier in college than you were in grade school. Or, dare I say, beautiful.”


She smiled. “You old charmer, you.” She pulled the chair across from me over and sat in it. “I don't mind that you saw the photos.”


“You wrote some stuff next to some of them,” I said. “Kind of like what you'd see in a grade school yearbook. You even wrote stuff next to the photos of me.”


Her smile faded. “I wanted to remember who you were. Even after I went off to college, and especially after I got married. But I needn't have worried. I never forgot you.”


“I wish I could say the same,” I said. “I did quite forget you, I'm sorry to say. A consequence of a busy time in college and my legal jobs afterward. Until Cat and I found a photo of you when you were ten years old. The same photo that you gave me as a reward for all my hard work in your tutoring sessions. And then my old memories of you woke up again. I remembered the day we went to the park together and the start of my first tutoring session like it was yesterday.”


She showed me what she'd hidden behind her back: a Granny Smith apple, shiny and green.


“Students used to give apples to their teachers,” Sunny said. “Perhaps, this time, the reverse can take place and the teacher can give an apple to the student.” She handed me the apple and smiled. “For the apple of my eye.”

Posted Oct 11, 2020
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21 likes 6 comments

06:40 Oct 22, 2020

Okay, so this one is my Reedsy assignment, and sorry, but I do have some feedback for you!! I hope it falls softly, because this instalment is quite different from the prequels (even though you refer back to them), so I'm confused.

Act 1, Scene 1.
Huh? Quentin is planning to wear a tie on an apple-picking date? And he just springs baby-sitting on poor Cat, without any notice? She is, what, 18ish? Her #1 priority would be with her friends, if she's your usual teenager ....

Act 1, Scene 2.
Sorry, but I'm getting nit-picky here .. this is the first time Quentin mentions his wife's name? I would have thought it came up at dinner the night they were reacquainted thanks to Cat's cheeky FaceBook intervention in Reunion.

And then you go mention shortbread! (Oh, yum! I do like the thought of cinnamon in my shortbread - thanks for the suggestion, during a diet; I will try it!).

There's a bit of discontinuity in the conversation at the duckpond (e.g., Quentin saying he helped Cat write her essay, and then contradicting himself when Sunny questions him about it); and some proofreading is needed, e.g., "I shook her head" should be (I'm guessing) "I shook my head". You also say "court of law" a couple of times near to each other; and both times, it doesn't feel like conversation. Most people would just say, "law court", wouldn't they?

I'd have the mug of warm cider after the tractor/wagon ride, because it's bumpy and the guests would be getting cold. I imagined the ride would be bumpy before I read it, so the cider didn't make sense. It's also a bit confusing that it's a wagon ride, but there's a tractor involved (wouldn't there be gas fumes?). Not what I imagined at all (insert Doris Day in Calamity Jane, dressed up perty in pink on *that* wagon. Ah, Doris.).

The whole "are we dating" thing is a bit awkward. My vibe of Quentin in the prequels, has been of someone who is wise and tender, and a bit of a romantic. He's a keeper. Apart from the hoarding issue in his basement, he's a good catch. This story breaks my illusion. Instead of "Not yet", he could say, "I don't know, are we?", or "I thought you might want to take it slowly", or "Maybe we could think about that for some time in the future, but for now, I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything right now." Then he changes the subject. But he needs some internal dialogue as to why he's changing it - the story is in his voice.

Act 2, Scene 1.
I can't get my head around an upstairs kitchen. It's unnatural! Well, in my head anyways. But, there are lots of people in that kitchen, and Quentin gets to put his feet up. Another way to set this scene, is for Quentin to offer to help Sunny get dinner ready - just the two of them. It's romantic, without being mushy. The kids can set the table, take the apples out to the backyard and BBQ them for dessert. I'm not sure how old the kids are, so your fatherly discretion can decide! Hec, dinner could be BBQ, and everyone goes out back with blankets and marshmallows ... Another version of dinner could be that the kids prepare, and Sunny takes Quentin to the loungeroom to look at old photos, and when they happen upon one from the tutoring days, one of them says, "You were the apple of my eye". End scene.

Act 2, final scene.
No woman ever wants to hear that she has been forgotten, unless it's by a stalker. I don't get how he forgot her anyway. She was his best friend for years. She helped transform him from a boy with potential, to a young man with confidence and competence. She helped him become the man he is. Even if he did forget her, he remembered her again when he saw the photo. The memories came flooding back. Couldn't he say that?

Sorry .. I got carried away ... I do love these stories!

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Philip Clayberg
08:42 Oct 22, 2020

Your questions are very sensible.

I think the reason Cat doesn't mind having the baby-sitting (or hanging out with) Sunny's kids is that it means her dad and Sunny get to spend time together. She's willing to make the sacrifice to make that possible.

I think Quentin is just used to dressing up (for him it isn't dressing up; it's just what he wears on a regular basis, whether at work or at home), even if it's just to go apple-picking. I can't quite imagine him in a flannel plaid button-down shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. That just isn't him. Maybe someday he'll dress that casually (especially if Sunny persuades him to), but not yet apparently.

Cat does have a boyfriend (or at least one that she's gone out with) named Malcolm. Quentin's met him and thinks he's a nice guy. She plans to go to her senior prom with Malcolm. But I'm not sure what Malcolm does when he's not with Cat. Maybe he has a part-time job when he's not in class at their high school? I don't know yet. So much happens off-stage that it's hard to refer to enough of it in the course of 3000 words (the maximum word-count for the weekly story contest prompts). I try to mention what I can in as many words as I can, but sometimes one section of a story that needs more words means another section gets short-changed or possibly mentioned very very briefly or not mentioned at all. If I had 4000 or 5000 words instead, I probably would be able to flesh-out the characters and settings better than I currently am.

I used to love cinnamon shortbread cookies (back when I could still find them at grocery stores; they're almost nonexistent nowadays), so I mentioned those. I used to have a terrible sweet tooth when I was a kid. (I loved donuts, candy, cake, pie, etc.) Every tooth that could have a filling (top and bottom) has one. I probably should've brushed my teeth better and used dental floss more often (or at all), but I didn't. I still have some of that sweet tooth, but being poor means I can't indulge in it as much as I used to (and I've found that some sweetened foods can make me really sick, so I've had to stop eating them).

The duck-pond discussion: Sunny is worried that Quentin might've done more than just help Cat with her essay when Cat was 10 (see "Breaking with Tradition" for details). He's trying to explain that he discussed the subject of Cat's essay with Cat, but she wrote the whole thing herself. Since this happened during the time when Quentin and Sunny lost contact with each other, Sunny wasn't there. She just wants Quentin to be his usual honest self, and hopes he hasn't slid down towards dishonesty in any way during those years. He hasn't, and she's happy about it. Why she could think he'd be dishonest in any way baffles me, but then I'm me, not Sunny. She's her own person with her own way(s) of looking at the world around her. Maybe she's had some bad experiences in college (before meeting her husband-to-be, Leonard) and hopes that Quentin hasn't turned into someone like that. After all, in the flashback in "Box of Memories", they both had to face Dwayne and his two buddies at the park near the elementary school when Quentin and Sunny were 10 years old. People do change over time in the real world, and not always for the better.

I'll try to look for "I shook her head" in my offline copy. I can't change it online anymore because that weekly contest is over and done with (apparently, at the website, you can change the title of a short story after the contest it was submitted for ends, and add what three categories you think the short story belongs in; but you can't change anything in the story itself).

I think I've always heard "court of law". I don't think I've ever heard "law court". (And in similar terminology, "law school", yes, not "school of law".)

I probably should've proofread the story better, but I was looking for errors (misspellings, missing words, etc.) more than rewriting. I did do some rewriting, but apparently not enough. If the hot cider was served in a travel mug (like what people drink coffee with) that has a lid, then that should help prevent spills. I didn't mention what sort of mug it was served in, though. Another detail that escaped me when I was writing, editing, and rewriting the story.

I think Sunny is wondering (aloud; maybe she should've kept it silently to herself?) what their current relationship is. Still best friends, more than that, or what? So maybe she's sort of nudging/teasing him, but also underneath that, she seriously wants to know, "Where do I stand in his thoughts and feelings now that we're hanging out together again? Does he just like me as a best friend ... or are his feelings for me deepening?" I'm not sure he's thinking as far ahead as she is. But, then, he's been a widower since Cat was about 5 years old, I think, so about 12 years. He's just gotten used to being around people he works with, neighbors, and Cat. Why would he think about dating anyone? But then he reunites with Sunny, and the questions he might not've thought about in the past might need to be thought about in the present. Whereas Sunny has been married and wonders why did they reunite if not to develop their friendship into something more serious (that is, romantic)? She definitely likes him a lot, maybe more than likes him, and he isn't moving along as quickly as she is. Maybe, like me (the author), Quentin's feelings for Sunny *have* deepened already and it just hasn't sunk into his head yet. Maybe there needs to be some sort of catalyst that gets him moving up at her speed, instead of at his speed. Otherwise, she might decide that he isn't serious about her after all and she might start looking elsewhere for a romantic relationship. Or she might be willing to slow down to his speed and take things more gradually.

I don't remember Quentin putting his feet up on a table at Sunny's house. I think he and Ruth set the table, and then he went to the living room where he sat down. Maybe he took off his shoes, laid down on the couch, and put his feet up on one end of it. I think he was trying to figure out what to do (since he's not involved with the cooking) while the cooking is being done. So he browses in her living room (as casually and non-intrusively as possible) until he finds the photo album. He gets curious (he's only human, after all) and starts looking through it. Maybe he should've asked if he could look through it first, but maybe he thought he could look through it before the meal is cooked and ready to be served in the dining room. Then Sunny comes out of the kitchen and sees what he's doing. She probably senses his curiosity and figures that she's curious about what he did when they lost contact with each other (33 years is a long time and much can happen in all those years; sometimes whatever you spend most of your time doing might block out certain memories; those memories aren't gone; they're just not as easy to access). She might mind that he didn't ask first, though. Quentin had already remembered Sunny in "Box of Memories". Whereas Sunny had her photo album (and maybe other things that she kept from age 10 onward) which helped her to keep remembering him (college and what happened afterward apparently didn't cause her to temporarily forget about him). I don't assume that in the fictional world people will always remember each other (without something to remind them when they're apart), because I've had people forget about me in the real world (even when I didn't forget about them). And sometimes I was the one who forgot, and the other person remembered.

I hope that what I said helped clarify where you had questions. If not, feel free to ask more questions and I'll do my best to answer them. Much of this background material hasn't been written down (offline). I'm typing it up in emails to my mom (who's also reading my short stories when she isn't too busy) as well as in responses to messages from readers (like yourself) on this website. I probably should start copy/pasting from these responses and the emails and save them in text files on my computer, but I haven't done that yet.

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09:51 Oct 22, 2020

Wow! You don't skimp on the details (thanks) .. a bit like me! If I have anything left to ask, it would be the recipe for cinnamon shortbread please (though I'm guessing you don't have one). Your Mom might .... !! Take care and sleep well ...

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Philip Clayberg
19:34 Oct 22, 2020

You're welcome. I figured that you'd taken the trouble for a deep (constructive) critique, so I owed it to you to give you the best response I could give (considering it was about 3:15 am when I started about 4:45 am when I finished).

I wish I had the recipe for those cookies, but I bought them in a grocery store (and that was back when I could still find them in a grocery store). Try searching via Google for the recipe or search for a YouTube video that explains how to make them. I think they're basically shortbread cookies with cinnamon (or cinnamon-sugar) sprinkled on them. Btw, I'm not one of the cooks in my family. That would be my mother, my two older brothers, and my two twin nephews (and I think also their two younger sisters). My mother's sister also is a really good cook, but she lives about halfway across America from where my mom lives and from I live. I'm what I would call a mediocre cook. I do okay.

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04:46 Oct 23, 2020

Ha! You have your own talents .. as long as you are fed and nourished, it doesn't matter how well you cook.

I think you're probably right about how to make the cookies. I'll try using cinnamon when I start my Christmas baking. I do shortbread every year. I used to do the biggest plum puddings too, until my parents died. As much as I do get to see my siblings quite often (I have 8), we don't do Christmas like we used to ...

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Philip Clayberg
15:59 Oct 23, 2020

This is true. But if you looked at those around me (family and relatives), you'd ask, "How in the world did the cooking gene almost entirely skip you?" My cooking abilities are even more mediocre/basic than my late father's was. He could make a wonderful spaghetti dinner with veggie meatballs (he'd take frozen veggie burgers and convert them into meatballs). I just really don't have the self-motivation to cook anything special when it's just me.

Wow. I wish I could try your cookies. They sound yummy (and, to paraphrase George Shrinks, "probably taste even better"). I've had blackberry cobbler, but not any dessert with plums in it.

Eight siblings? Wow. I just have two (in my family/relatives, I think the average family size is 3 or 4, or at least it used to be; it seems to be shrinking down towards 1 or 2). My maternal grandmother showed me a panorama photo of a family reunion (I think it was taken in the 1920s) and she asked me if I knew which one was her. I didn't know, so I picked a likely candidate. She shook her head and pointed to herself. The reunion had so many people that they went from the left of the left-most tree (there were 2 trees) across the space between the trees and to the right of the right-most tree. I've never seen a reunion photo with so many people before or since.

Christmas ... yeah, that's something that's sort of fallen by the wayside in my family (or at least the part of it that's in the DC area). Partly due to reduced amounts of money to spend on presents, Christmas food, etc., partly because we're so scattered across the country. At least in the Pacific NW, that branch of the family is still celebrating Christmas (mostly like how Scandinavians celebrate it, since they're part-Danish, part-Swedish, and part-Finnish). I imagine that the branch of the family that's in Texas also celebrates Christmas (Texas is where most of my mom's side of the family lives).

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