Lost Harvest

Mr. G and I went babysitting over the weekend and to say the least it was a delight. Our grandchildren at 10 and 6 years old both play soccer and we got to take them to both games. Such fun and they are excellent players. I came home Sunday night and it was dark as I pulled into the driveway, appreciative that friend Meg had taken good care of my cat Rufus, he was there waiting for me. Exhausted from babysitting I slept nine full hours, awoke refreshed and eager to spend the morning preparing a thank you lunch for Meg. The lunch was good, especially the apple cake that I made, giving her more than half to take home. We had two rousing games of Scrabble, each winning one. After she left I took a walk to collect the mail and as I ambled back thinking "I'll pick the apples and start first on apple jelly, then perhaps some apple butter and then give some of those apples to my nieces and sons..." when I reached the driveway with a clear shot of the apple tree in the sun and discovered that every last apple had been picked from my little tree. At first I couldn't believe it. I ran to the tree and looked up, not even one apple left. This was not only theft, this was cruelty.

Last year because of climate change we had a wonky spring and a very late frost. I called Mr. G that year and said, "I just ate our crop." It was a whopping three apples. So you can only imagine how excited I was to have a lush crop of the Akane apples this year. Thrilled. You can also imagine how saddened and disappointed I am to have had harvest violation.

I called the people most important to me, first Mr. G but he was travelling and unavailable, then one of my nieces and then Meg. She said, "I never noticed the tree, do you think your neighbor had someone pick them for you?" "No, she is in Canada until mid week, and she would never do such a thing without asking." So, still feeling violated I called the Sheriff, it was all he could do not to laugh. "How do you like them apples," I believe was his most sympathetic comment.  A bit later Mr. G called back and was appalled and also sooooo angry. He wanted me to check the house and I did, not sure if anything was missing. We talked for about 10 minutes, unfortunately escalating each other's outrage.

After hanging up from the call to my husband I felt a need to clean the house. I vacuumed and scrubbed to get the foul taste out of my head and to stop the whirling thoughts. Still angry I decided to switch gears altogether and made myself a nice dinner, chopping veggies and including an apple from the tree that I fortuitously did harvest before the pillage. A tad better, I went upstairs to connect with all my family that's on Face book. That's when things did dissipate.

When I refuse to forgive someone who wronged me, I sentence the person to a long prison term without pardon ... Now as jailer, I must spend as much time in prison as the prisoner I am guarding. Bearing a grudge is very costly, because those feelings of anger, resentment and fear drain my energy and imprison my vitality and creativity.                Zalman Schachter-Shalomi

Naturally  I read my e mails first and among them was pictures from my old friend Judie of a Polar bear that befriended a Huskie in Alaska and came each night to play with him. Then there was pictures of Koala bears in Australia begging for water when it was unbearably hot [pun intended]. Very cute indeed and gives you a different outlook on love and generosity. Next I went to Facebook as saw the ultra sound picture of a niece's baby. Exciting for the entire tribe, and we are a huge one. Finally I watched a CNN film clip someone sent. It was about a man in India who had worked as a chef in a Four Star hotel, but noticed the starving all around him. He said, "I quit my job and since 2002, I have fed the starving and abandon people who lived in my city." I watched as he tenderly fed and shaved a starving man, an 'untouchable'. It was touching and a good reminder of how spoiled we are, those  of us with a good job, a home, a fabulous family and yes, apples to spare.

Gratitude can change your attitude.     Anon

The apple thieves did wrong me and I am disheartened by their actions but I refuse to be their jailer. This is when the magical thinking kicks in and I hope that they truly were desperate and starving and without a job. Being in a somewhat affluent community brings doubt to my mind, but what the heck it is my fantasy. Would have be nice if:

1. they had asked
2. they were truly needy
3. they weren't sneaky
4. they were honorable and left at least half of the apples for our family.

I am giving myself the entire rest of the day to pout about the loss of my apples. I will be pissed about the presents I cannot present, the dishes I can't make, the lusciousness of biting into the crisp Akane off the tree and the icky violation I feel at being ripped off.

As is our custom, Mr. G and I talk every night on the phone. We, of course, launched into a heated discussion of how rotten those apple thieves are. Then he said something very good, "we've got to stop talking about this or I will never get to sleep." Hey, I am supposed to be the smarty pants counselor and here he is counseling and consoling me. So we talked about our granddaughter and what a terrific star she is on her team and how funny the six year old grandson is and we laughed together at their attempts to get Mr. G to have a "natural laugh" by pressing on his stomach. [He would imitate Woody Woodpecker every time, which reduced me to gales of natural laughter.] And after about five minutes we both were better. Ah, the brain can change and lighten the load.

I am going to work and I am going to ride my bike on this crisp fall day and I am going to put my face into the sun and be grateful that I have this wonderful life even if I am a few apples short of a barrel.

magicfeather copyright 2011 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.