500 apples

Earlier this autumn my family and I went out to the Lassonde orchard. Lassonde is one of the largest producers of juices in Quebec. Our tenant that lives upstairs is the director of public affairs and each year he invites us to this annual festival of apple picking. Lassonde opens a part of their orchard for family and friends of all its employees for apple picking, apple juice drinking, candied apple eating, everything apples. It finished at 4:30 which is exactly the time the last car drove out and exactly the time that we drove in.Mario hands us four huge heavy duty bags, points out to the hundreds of apple trees lining the land, and set us free.

I came home with so many apples that I didn't know what to do with. Surely there was no way to put them all into the refrigerator. I looked up every apple recipe I could find. I got to peeling and coring and peeling and coring and on and on, over an hour I spent just peeling and coring. I made a huge pot of homemade apple sauce to can, made several apple pies, an apple crisp, and I still had apples left.

I was so proud of myself for being all Betty Crocker, so when my Texan friend that moved to Detroit sent a mass email out asking if anyone knew what to do with 500 apples, I was happy to share my recipes.

It backfired. I should have known. This friend was, after all, Kristina. I should've expected it when I got this response in return:

"Ahem...I'm not the one baking fucking apple pies and CANNING applesauce. Methinks Dorian has seen the movie "Baby Boom" too many times!"

Well, of course, I was a little bit embarrassed after that. My friend Susan, who's sensitive like me, must've felt it. She wrote:

"Dorian, your feelings better not be hurt. If it makes you feel better I’ll admit to the fact I have a crab apple tree in my yard.
I just let mine rot."

After that, I kind of forgot about it. I never responded to anyone about it. Life moved on. I even talked to Kristina last week and we never brought it up.

But yesterday evening I got another message from Susan. She wrote...

"Since the Martha Stewart apple comments, you disappeared.
I’m worried."

To which Kristina promptly responded back...

"Have no fear. I talked to her the other day. She's fine, but she WAS laid up in the hospital, after an unfortunate apple orchard incident. Seems some punk ass bitch beat Dorian to the tree with the Macintosh apples, and they got into it. Punches were thrown, harsh words were said, and as they were rolling around, fighting over apples, they got hit by a tractor. Dorian was lucky - just a few scrapes and bruises. Punk ass bitch girl was not so lucky. The tractor severed her pickin' hand."

Yeah, Kristina knows I can be a tough ass. She tried to beat me up once in high school, but it didn't work. We got in a fight one night while I was driving, so I pulled to the side of road, got out and went around to her side. By that time, she was out of the passenger side and coming my way with her prancy little ass. She punched me in the face and I grabbed her hands and wouldn't let go. Bitch was handcuffed by my force. I wonder if she'll tell the same story. Knowing her, I doubt it. She probably thinks she won.

Susan will kill me but I have to say it. No one I know has been invited to view my blog yet, so I'm safe for now.

Susan responded with this...

"What the FUCK?!?!?
Dorian, are you OK?????? I really was/am worried.
I knew it wasn’t like you to put your tail between your legs and hide when bitches like me and Kristina come after you and this story proves you’ll fight till the bitter end.
That will teach her to fight a TX HO, stupid ass Canadian.
On a serious, note I’m glad you are ok.
Let’s talk."

Sounds like she gets it, doesn't it? I talked to her earlier today and she told me that she and her husband were laughing while reading it. Then an hour later she went up to him and said, "I hope she's okay. I just can't believe she'd fight like that in front of her boys."

He said, "Honey, your blond is really coming out now."