It is rather peaceful right now. The neighbors have turned off their spooky lights and I am free to enjoy the velvety dark without my retinas burning or fear of imaginary vehicular retribution. I am snuggled up on the couch watching the Halloween village lights flicker and listening to the cat snore. Even though my online fog dance didn't seem to work, it still turned out to be a rather nice day. I broke down and bought another pumpkin, which I fully intend to carve some time before October 31st. I watched one of my October movies, drank a pumpkin latte and bought a stuffed bat/pumpkin hybrid toy at the grocery store. Yup, it was definitely a good October day.
But it got me thinking. What have been some of my other really wonderful October days? Which lead me to thoughts of tradition. Traditions that I have started and maintained like the October Thoughts, traditions that I hope to begin, or traditions that I have begun but not followed through on for one reason or another. One of my traditions that fell through the cracks was also one of my very best October memories. I was reminded of it today by one of my younger friends. About four years ago, I had the opportunity, nay privilege of being a part of a cider making party. A local grower invites family, friends and various other people to come to his house and turn apples into liquid deliciousness. Depending on the amount of helpers who show up, it takes about four to four and a half hours of hard and continuous labor which at the end of, you are rewarded with dinner and your own cider. It really is magical.
I was asked by a member of the family and didn't know what to expect. I am a city girl. I know how to juice an orange and stick things in the blender. Anything beyond that and I go to the store where they provide it for me in a nice plastic container. (I really would suck at being a pioneer, I’m not kidding). So being a city gal, my first thought was "hmm, what does one wear to a cider making party?" (I settled on stylish yet functional, just in case you were wondering). I had never been to the location before so I made sure to scout it (bordering on stalking) well in advance. I wrote down the event on my calendar and counted the days.
When the big day finally arrived I bounced out of bed eager to go. I showed up at the appointed time only to find that they had started without me. (the nerve ;) Of course my shy mode kicked in. There were dozens of people already happily engaged in the process of cider making. Where to go? What to do? I needn't have worried, there was plenty of work to go around. The whole process was set up like an assembly line. There were people who shoveled the apples off of trucks and into crates. People who cleaned and cut the apples. People who carried crates from group to group. People who used the press. People who bottled, and a few other stations that I can't remember. I was greeted with enthusiasm and set to work along side a few others washing the apples, cutting out the bad spots and dumping them into waiting containers.
Now let me say right from the start that I had HUGE amounts of fun and it is one of my favorite memories. But man, sometimes it was downright miserable. The day was not the warmest and occasionally the sun went behind a cloud or a chilly wind struck up. This would not have been so bad had I not been dealing with apples and water. By the end of the day I was soaking wet and couldn't feel my fingers. But it was great! The fellows from the trucks would come by and dump crates of apples into these soaking tubs next to the table we were at. We let the apples bob and then we had to transfer them from the bleach water they were in, to the rinse water. Then we had to cut them and toss them into a waiting bucket to be taken to the press. It sounds simple enough, but the combination of bleach, cold water and even colder temperatures made ones hands not exactly nimble.
I think I had a watery apple bin overturn on my first fifteen minutes in. It was a good thing I was wearing layers, but I got soaked and there went layer one. I also made a newbie mistake and grabbed one of the apple bins myself to tip it over so the fellows on the truck and dump duty wouldn't have to. I found out pretty quickly why they did the dumping and not us. The edges of the bins are sharp and I sliced my palms on them. So, for those of you keeping score, it was city girl zero, apples two. It was barely a half hour in and I was already covered in water and had to go see someone about Band-Aids. I felt like a doofus.
After getting all the rookie mistakes out of the way nice and quick, things settled down to a routine. I began to chat with my fellow apple cutters and some of those around me. Each of the jobs was hard in its own way, so from time to time, new people or people from other stations would wander in and I would get a break to grab a snack, pet the dog, get warm, see what others were doing or just relax. It wasn't forced labor. You could come and go as you pleased. Some people just came to sit on the steps and watch the work being done. Nothing was really planned out or assigned, and somehow all the stations got filled and things moved like clockwork.
Other than watching the process of cider making and actually doing it myself, my favorite part was laying on the giant trampoline and staring up at the colorful leaves on the trees. The trampoline also functioned as the part time babysitter so sometimes I had to share my leaf watching with the kids, but I didn't mind. They either sat still and watched leaves with me, tried to bounce me off, or begged me to bounce them off. A few decided to be my personal snack bearers and I didn’t dissuade them. On other breaks I wandered to other stations and tried my hand at them. The press in particular was better than any gym work out.
Way sooner than I expected the last bunch of apples were unloaded from the truck. Slowly the process wound down and as each station ran out of apples to process people just sat down on any available space to watch the final product work its way toward being poured into jugs. When the last jug was filled there was a cheer from those assembled and we were then invited into the house for dinner. Food never tastes so good as when you have worked up an appetite. Everything was delicious and warm. I spent equal amounts of time either holding the bowls to get warm or eating the substances inside them. People talked, napped, laughed, mingled and generally enjoyed themselves. Everyone smelled like apples and had a smile on their face. When chairs became scarce, people sat on the floor or any other surface they could find. There was a camaraderie amongst all those people that you don't see very often now a days. We had all participated in a common goal and been amply rewarded for the fruits of our labor s(pun intended).
Slowly the talk wound down. Parents would pick up sleeping children and people would get up in small groups to head home. The jugs of cider got fewer and fewer and the driveway emptied of cars. I thanked my host and hostess for a wonderful time and was invited to come back again the next year. I left with a grin on my face, jugs of cider in my hands and the smell of apples that wouldn't dissipate for a few days, even after a good scrubbing.
I still can't believe that I actually had that experience. Sometimes it feels like a vivid dream. I fully intended to make it an October tradition. After all, what could be better than gathering with a group of folks to make cider on a lovely fall day? But for one reason or another, that has been my only cider making experience to date and that makes me a bit sad. This year I hear that there was live entertainment from a couple of participants who afterwards got out their guitars and serenaded the crowd. Cider and a concert, man jealousy rears its ugly head. Even so, I would not trade having gone the first time for not having gone at all. I know the fun they are having and the memories it will make. I cherish my memories of it and tradition or not at least other people get to experience the wonder of a homemade product and camaraderie with fellow workers.
It makes me sad that things like this don't happen more often. People get so wrapped up in their technological lives that they forget to take their families or friends to things like this. I certainly never knew about such things when I lived in the city. So this is my challenge to you. Make a memory. Go out and find something new and different to do this October with the time you have left. Go find an orchard or a farmers market. Maybe take a hike through an October colored forest or visit a pumpkin patch. Have friends over to bake something or sit around the fire. Create your own tradition and make a memory. You won't be sorry you tried, I promise. After all, water dries, cuts heal and homemade cider tastes better than anything in the world
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