One of the great times of the year is when local apples start arriving at the markets. My favourite is the Cortland, which doesn't arrive usually until mid-October. They were a little early this year, as were most fruits around here, and I've already made apple pies.
Jeanne helped me last weekend. The pies were for Thanksgiving, and she rolled out the pastry dough, in her own wonderful, two-year old fashion. All along she was telling me about something that happened at the day care centre that I really didn't understand until her mother explained later that they'd picked apples (hung from the trees in the little courtyard before hand) and then made some kind of pie or crumble with them.
Obviously the whole thing made a big impression on her, and perhaps this weekend we'll watch the following episode in the Caillou series. She's currently very taken by the little bald-headed kid, who made a fortune but ended up in the Supreme Court of Canada when it came time to share the profits.
Is there a lesson there? Don't know except to acknowledge that little kids can be powerful