It pleases me that there is an apple tree in our garden, and that it has apples on it. It gives me the same sort of satisfaction that having a vegetable garden does, but without having to do any of the work.



These last few days, I've actually been toying with the idea of baking an apple pie. It seems like the right thing to do - frugal, healthy, organised ... The only problem is, none of us likes apple pie. Or apple crumble. Or baked apples. We have eaten a few of them the normal way (ie cut into what Sophie still calls "apple smileys") but sadly, they are not terribly wonderful-tasting apples, so most of them seem destined to fall off the tree and rot in the grass.

Unless we make them into cider?

Fortunately the only plums remaining on the plum tree are looking withered and nasty, so I can abandon the idea of cooking those in good conscience.