There were three apple trees on the farm, a very old tree in the front yard of the 100 year old farm house, it was so tall, that you had to wait for the apples to fall, you couldn't reach them from the ground, one in my grandfather's dog run, the apples on that tree were late to ripen, often green - hard and sour, and on behind the honey-processing plant. The honey-house apples were the best, nice size, ripened well, the tree was short and full, easy to get to. In my teenage years I picked dozens of bushels of apples from that tree. My grandmother taught me how to make and can applesauce, and how to make a good apple pie (I have since learned the secret to making a GREAT apple pie.
When was the last time you went apple picking?