My house smells like a fruit-shop at the moment. Pears, nectarines, apples all sit around waiting to be eaten or transformed into jars of preserves. It's tedious work, cutting up windfalls and cooking them and bottling them, but it's all worth it in the depths of winter when I can open a jar and have gorgeous flavourful fruit for crumbles and pies and breakfast. Supermarket canned fruit is just blah compared to the real thing, and some of it, ridiculously, comes from China. I bought some pulped apples once (I was pushed for time and apples were out of season) and found out that all but one brand (Roxborough, I think) consisted of apples grown in New Zealand and Australia, shipped as pulp to China, canned there and shipped back again! Mad world.
So tomorrow I take my vorpal sword in hand and turn on the music and work my way through the produce pile.
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