[245] Bi-Coastal Traditions

245a

Y’all know I gush about my family all the time, but my mom really sent me off the deep end with the latest package she sent.

Let me give you a little bit of backstory. In New York, I would consider Fall the prettiest time of the year. Every single tree within sight change from green to brilliant reds and yellows and oranges. It constantly takes my breath away, until the rain switches to snow, knocks all the leaves off the trees, and I never want to go outside for the next 5 months. ANYWAYS, my family makes a traditional trip out to LaFayette to pick apples and pumpkins. Beak and Skiff is the primo of all apple orchards, anywhere, hands down. Not only do they have a bazillion different kinds of apples, that we bring home in multiple bags that each weigh at least 20lbs, there are also apple fritters, apple cider, apple vodka, apple gin, and apple wine. NOT TO MENTION the insane country store that has anything and everything apple. It’s heaven on earth for an Appleby, seriously.

The pumpkin picking portion (a beautiful alliteration if I do say so myself) of the day has become less important as the years have passed and Sammy and I haven’t really cared about carving them. There are goats at Tim’s Pumpkin Patch, if you’re into that sort of thing.

So there’s the set up. This has been a year of change for me, especially missing out on traditions like this one, and my mom understands more than anybody. Of course my sister and my dad care, but my mom has this weird ESP when I’m feeling a little homesick, which subsequently happens when I’m PMSing. Yesterday I got home and there were 2 packages waiting for me, one was a really cute sweater with leather sleeves, and the other was a box from my mom, or EWA as the return address said. I was prepping so I could make dinner for an awesome guy, but I had this undeniable urge to open the box, so I did, and almost instantly started crying.

The first thing that set me off was a card my mom wrote:

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Tears everywhere. Next up were the individually bubble wrapped apples. As I opened up each of the four apples (which I’m assuming represent me,my mom, dad and sister) , the tears kept flowing. I composed myself long enough to discover the last little gem in the box, a Beak and Skiff coaster. I died in the best way possible.

– Stephanie

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