Thursday, September 11, 2014

An orchard of memories

One of the writing prompts for this week is "write a post inspired by the word apples". The moment I read the prompt, I envisioned summer days at my grandparents' house in northern Virginia.

Way back when, before she was a grandma, my grandmother worked at the apple plant, an imposing factory and warehouse that employed a sizeable portion of the community. Acres and acres of land near their home were working orchards, bearing apples of varied colors and sizes each fall season. A quaint red barn apple market was opened a few decades later when I was a child, and we would often walk for a sample of homemade warm pie or to select apples and other fruits, freshly delivered in trusty pick-up trucks from area farms. Just across the street from their little white house with the welcoming porch swing, "folks" could admire a giant red apple perched on the top of a building. My sister and I used to play a game upon arriving at the end of our 5-hour car ride; whomever spotted the apple first and yelled "big red apple!" won. (Of course, there was no actual prize, but sibling bragging rights were surprisingly valuable back then.)

It is funny, now that I think about it, how big a role apples play in my memories of summer weeks with Grandma and Granddad. I guess that's why I enjoy fall outings to area farms and orchards with my own family. We enjoy the rows and rows of fruit-bearing trees and the markets remind me of the market up there. I enjoy watching Amelia peruse the aisles of produce and homemade goodies. I feel like I am passing on a bit of my childhood to her. This year, Andrew gets to go along for the ride!

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Linked up to Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop this week

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