Apples

I just had to post a picture of our apples from Maine.

The basket is large because my youngest insisted upon getting the biggest possible basket. It was pretty darn heavy by the end of our trek through the orchard.

This morning, as I looked at the bright red, super shiny, fresh apples - I realized that I should send an apple with each of my kids to their teachers. How Norman Rockwell is that? My kids pick their own apples then bring one to their teacher. It's almost freakishly "Father Knows Best." Next thing you know, I'll quit my job and start doing housework in heels and pearls.

Yeah...I'm cracking up at that one too. Let's count the ways that the current dimension would need to shift for that to happen, shall we?

1. I'd need to clean the house - or at least one room of the house.

2. I'd need to quit my job which, in and of itself, could seriously affect my ability to BUY heels and pearls.

3. I'd need the ability to keep a pleasant attitude after being cooped up in the house for longer than two hours.

Unless my husband has a trip planned to Stepford in the near future...none of that will be happening.

Ok...I'm off to slice one of those delicious apples and dribble sticky apple juice all over my pillow before I fall asleep.