We got copious amounts of apples from our tree this year. So many that despite canning 38 quarts and about as many for my friend, it didn't appear as though we'd even picked any apples. So it was a bit strange that I still wanted to go to Apple Hill, but traditions die hard in my world. Also, my mom really wanted to go. We let Xiana bring Tad (perhaps another new tradition) and went to our favorite spots. I really love it up there, and I discovered that Apple Hill is my mom's happy place. Shortly after my dad died, I was trying to get mom to go to Tahoe with me, sure that she was not immune to the healing powers of that majestic lake. She didn't want to and got annoyed saying, "I know Tahoe is your happy place, but it's not mine!" I wondered where hers was... or if she had one. As we traveled to Apple Hill, there was a visible change in her. It was like every mile we got closer, the more relaxed and cheerful she became. While my kids rolled around in red dirt and covered themselves in caramel, her reaction was, "who could resist these dirt hills and caramel?" It was as if everything that typically gives her anxiety was forgotten or overlooked. It was remarkable. I'll have to remember that in future years. We had a wonderful time, leaving the house at 8 am and not returning until 9 pm. Argenta travels so well, and every stop was magical to the kids.
