Mister Fweem's Blog: Applesauce from Our Own Apples

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Applesauce from Our Own Apples

Last night we made fourteen quarts of applesauce, from the tiniest apples we've ever worked with.

What made it worthwhile is they're apples from our own tree. That's kinda cool.

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The Best Part

Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi

“Pete,” said Mr. Ordson, “we live in a time of great mistrust. This is not always a bad thing. People should question things. However, in my experience, too much suspicion undermines reason.” I shook my head, only to remember he couldn’t see me. “There’s a big difference,” he went on, “between suspicion and paranoia.” “What’s . . . paranoia?” “An unreasonable beliefe that you are being persecuted. For example,” Mr. Ordson went on,” I’m willing to guess you’ve even considered me to be the informer. After all, you told me you were going to follow your father. Perhaps I told the FBI.” Startled, I stared at him. His blank eyes showed nothing. Neither did his expression. It was as if he had his mask on again. “Have you considered that?” he pushed. “No,” I said. But his question made me realize how much I’d shared with him. Trusted him. How he’d become my only friend. And he was the only one I hoad told I was going to follow my dad. Maybe he did tell the FBI. He said, “I hope you get my point.” Silcence settled around us. Loki looked around, puzzled. Mr. Ordson must have sensed what I was thinking because he said, “Now, Pete, you don’t really have any qualms about me, do you?”

Yes, perlious times then. Who to trust? And perlious times now, with paranoia running even deeper than during the Red Scare . . .

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Applesauce from Our Own Apples

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