In the garden of the nursing home where I work there are several apple trees. I don't know what they're all called, but for a few weeks the ripe apples have been pouring to the ground. And then they're just lying there to be a feast for the wasps and other bugs.

So it's time for applesauce.

Armed with a fruit picker on a long stick and a plastic bag, I passed the trees. Also on the ground I found good apples. Because yes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The bag was so full.


There are also a few trees in the animal meadow. The goats didn't trust it, that man with the long stick they preferred to look at at the appropriate distance.

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