Apple-scented memories

Lovely image by Maureen McCarthy

I wish I could remember more about my childhood.  I really need to write down more of the things I've assumed I would never forget.  One of the things we always did in fall was to visit a local orchard to pick up our order of "drops".

My parents had a favorite orchard, called Rockledge Orchard, which they always purchased apples from.  In our family lexicon it was abbreviated simply to "Rockledge".  Mention that and everyone knew what was meant.  To get there, one took a network of dirt roads, following signs much like the one pictured above (which is a scan of a favorite note card).

{I want to add that I've recently learned that the artist who painted the illustration at top is Maureen McCarthy, a New Hampshire girl like myself.  No wonder the painting is so evocative of my own experience!  To see more of her work, and to be completely enchanted, go here: Maureen McCarthy.
We didn't ever pick up the "drops" ourselves, to the best of my knowledge.  Instead, my mother would order a bushel or two of "Macs" and Cortlands.  The orchard folks would fill these large wooden boxes with apples that had dropped to the ground.  This meant, of course, that the apples weren't perfect, but they were fine for our purposes and they were less expensive.

And what a treat it was to go to the orchard to pick up our apple order!  The boxes of apples were stored in a large room in the barn, to keep them cool and in good condition, I suppose.  Oh, the aroma inside that barn!  The scene looked a little bit like the photo below, but the boxes were much larger.

Photo from Pixabay

I've mentioned that Yankee Candle's Macintosh scent reminds me of that apple barn.  And it does.  Every single time I smell that scent, it takes me back.  But the aroma in that barn was even better!

When we got our apples home, my mother made lots of applesauce to can, and I'm sure she made some apple crisps and apple squares as well -- she wasn't much of a pie baker -- but many of the apples were just to eat out of hand.  The Cortlands, with their bright red outsides and crunchy white flesh, were my very favorites.  I think there may have been some years when my parents ordered more apples just before Thanksgiving, but I can't remember for sure (although it makes sense).

The apples and the treats made from them were marvelous -- but they just can't compare to the sweetness of that apple scented memory!