The chilly mornings continue. No heat in sight. Good weather to cool down the rootcellar.

The late-season picking is like a game of chicken. Your two cars are driving towards the edge of the cliff. Who jumps out first is the chicken. Is it James Dean or Sal Mineo? Don’t get your sleeve caught on the door handle. In the world of apples, how long do you dare to leave them on the tree? You wait, you wait, you wait and then, darn! They freeze and are all ruined. Better luck next year. Or do you wait until the last minute and then spring into action and pick them in the dark with headlamps and gloves, just before the old chevy flies over the cliff and the whole world freezes, but the apples are safe and sound in the root cellar? I prefer scenario B. So it looks as though we pick everything this week.