1/23/20
Last night, I lit a Yahrzeit candle for my grandmother, Clara Eckel Stone, and my husband and I said the prayers for her. She died 26 years ago but she never leaves me. Her advice and example of how to live guides me, and her hand is ever on my shoulder, especially in the kitchen. Last October, I visited my father and stepmother who live on the Spring Hill farm Granny and Grandpa bought in the late ‘50s, the first place I lived permanently. I gathered apples from Granny's tree in their front year. It is still here after all these years, even though it is bent and nearly hollow. I had never really paid attention to the tree’s fruit. Last fall, it was loaded with apples that were green dappled with a brown wash on top. I was able to identify the apples from a book my brother gave my dad about apple varieties. We think they might be Roxbury Russets, the oldest apples bred in this country. I spent a day making applesauce from the apples (which was outstanding). These apples ripen through October and are known for making cider. Roxbury Russets were also known to keep well through winter. I love this quote about them from Nathaniel Hawthorne, “But I suppose I am like a Roxbury russet, – a great deal the better, the longer I can be kept.”
(Thanks to Wikipedia for that information.)
