Warm Sun, Warm Friends

Over the Hill Orchards and Winery, 
Lumsden, Saskatchewan

On a patio overlooking 

the Qu’Appelle Valley 

in the warm sun, 

we shared a lovely afternoon. 

Cold drinks and fresh desserts

 - saskatoon pie, 

    crepes stuffed with cherries, 

      rhubarb crumble, 

         apple pie kept conversation 

to a minimum for a short time. 

If we didn’t eat quickly 

our ice cream or 

  whipped cream toppings 

would melt!

Discussions ranged from travels 

throughout the world to 

   one member's garden with monarch butterflies 

then it was a walk down to explore  

     Over the Hill Orchards and Winery.

“Friendship is unnecessary, 

like philosophy, and art…It has no survival value; 

rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”

~ C.S.Lewis,  The Four Loves

Contact: Over the Hill Orchards and Winery at

   overthehillorchards.ca

Chapter Two, Episode Thirty-Nine - Not for Ourselves - Situationally Theirs

Not for Ourselves

He wasn’t really a young man in 2008. But he had taken a trip to the mainland anyway. Samuel Forrester wasn’t prone to leave his garden and yard for more than a couple days. Especially at planting time, or when the new plants were getting started, or when the tomatoes needed staking. Come to think of it there wasn’t anytime for trips even up Island. He also wasn’t one to just drop everything, but his cousin asked for his help. He didn’t hesitate. Fred, his cousin, had a small fruit farm somewhere between Penticton and Kelowna in the Okanagan. Samuel had only been there once before. The young couple that helped Fred at the Farmer’s Market every fall had been in a serious car accident. They were recovering but still in hospital. Unable to get any immediate replacements, in desperation he called Samuel. “I’ll stay as long as you need me. Be there by Friday, Fred.”  He had let James know he was going, found a young man to come out a couple of times a week to pick any tomatoes still to ripen and hoped there wouldn’t be a bad turn in the weather. He had only needed to be away for a few weeks, but he loved every minute of it. Had to call James every other day to check up on things. “Everything is fine, Samuel. The weather’s been good, Elizabeth’s had more tomatoes and apples than she can keep up with. Just stay where you are and enjoy your time with your cousin.”

~~~~~

“Samuel. Samuel? Did you hear me calling?” Dez had come out to the orchard and always stopped to talk with him before getting on with her own work. “Miss Dez. I sure didn’t. You caught me daydreaming. Did I ever tell you about the trip I took to the Okanagan?” Dez could hear a story coming, but she needed to speak first. “No, Samuel but I have a question for you.” Samuel pulled up the old chairs by the shed, took his pipe out and sat down. Miss Dez looked pretty serious. “All right, Miss Dez, ask away.” 

Dez hesitated. “I don’t know why you would know anything about my sister, but I trust you. You’re the only one that is kind of like me. Well, different but more outside of things. My sister stays with me while her husband is working, but we hardly talk anymore. If we talk about anything, it’s just nothing. ‘How’s the coffee? What’s the weather?’ And she…….” Samuel held up his hand. “Did you ask why she’s gone quiet on you?” Dez sighed heavily. “Of course I did. There was one day that she almost started to ask me to help with some staff issues here, but then just changed the subject and hasn’t mentioned anything again. I’ll help her with anything.” Samuel knocked the cold tobacco from his pipe and stood. “I ‘fraid I’m not much help. I just see her and Dr. Jeremy once in a while out walking. Usually having a pretty good time. Nothing unusual except that one day.” Dez looked up at him. “What was unusual, Samuel?” He adjusted his battered old hat. “Oh, probably nothing. I can’t really see what’s goin' on. Too far. Drove up, sat in the car a long time before she got out. That was it. She’s usually out and in the big house real quick.”

“You’re right, Samuel. I need to talk to her again. It’s probably nothing. Now, do you have work to do or do you have time to tell me about your trip?” He pushed the hat back on his head, pulled out his pipe and fresh tobacco. “It was September, 2008. My cousin Fred called me, asked me to come help out. He still runs that same orchard. We took loads of apples, pears, peaches - even grapes - to the Market, set up tents and ……..” Two hours later, Dez looked at her watch. “I’m getting pretty hungry. Let’s go to the kitchen for some lunch Samuel.”

“Not for ourselves alone are we born.”

~ Marcus Tulles Cicero

Chapter One, Episode 140 - Windfalls - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode didn't flow as nicely as the last couple of episodes. There was, in fact, dialogue between the two characters (Joey and Digby) in this piece. I answered my own question, from my last episode Review regarding dialogue and could it create difficulty in maintaining a steady flow for the reader. The location also changes, answering another question regarding flow: Digby's office; the upstairs with further suggestions of the outside and in the kitchen. Being alert for the back and forth nature of dialogue and location are important considerations. So for this episode, I cleaned up sentence structure and, later on in the piece, added some detail.

Windfalls

They lay in the grass in the shallow ditch along the side of the road. In the cool evening air, not a leaf stirred. This was Joey’s favourite time of day. The apple blossoms were beautiful in spring, but what his mother could do with apples, even Cook couldn’t beat. Every year, as apples ripened, bushels of them fell outside the orchard. They were known as windfalls. Joey supposed that when the wind blew, that’s when most of the apples graced the ditches beside the orchards. Each year he wandered the ditches beside the orchards to collect windfall apples to take home to his mother. Some had been too damaged by birds or squirrels. He let them lay to be scavenged by the next critter but not again this year. 

One day, as he was heading upstairs to do the cleaning, Mr. Digby stood outside his office, waiting for him. He looked awfully serious, but then he always looked pretty serious. “Joey, can you come see me after you’re done upstairs. I have something I want to discuss with you.” He turned and went into his office, closing the door part way behind him. Throughout the morning, whether Joey was scrubbing the toilet, making the beds, dusting or vacuuming, sixteen year old Joey Tucker tried to think what he might have done. Had he spent too much time out in the garden? Should he have taken the tomatoes to Cook instead of his mother? He knew that he left the upstairs clean and polished each time he was there. That ghost girl, Sarah, hadn’t been bothering him since he asked her to help him move furniture and clean. He was worried.

The week before, Dez had approached Digby and asked if she could hire Joey to pick some of the apples. Rather intimidated by Digby, she could barely get the words out, but she had to do something. Apples were ripe. Because the trees had been watered regularly, the trees were loaded. Samuel told her “there’s more of ‘em on the trees this year, Mz. Dez. Better get some pickers in here.” She remembered Emmie’s suggestion that Digby be approached about hiring Joey and maybe a friend of his, to help with the orchard. She’d never hired pickers before so didn’t know where to start. When she approached Digby, Emmie had already spoken with him. She agreed that Dez could pay Joey and one friend for certain hours in the orchard. Digby spoke with Gerald Winston, the accountant before calling Joey into his office. He never suspected the young man was afraid he was losing his summer job.

Digby was still catching up on work from the weeks he and Martha were away. It seemed as though Miss Emelina was getting him some butlering work. He had phone calls from the chairman of the one of the charity boards Emmie was still involved with, asking if some kind of dinner could be arranged for the board members. Digby had been on the phone most of the morning with arrangements. He spent some of his time talking with Cook about the catering that would be needed. “My goodness, James! Don’t tell me that we’ll be having company out here again.” Cook was almost flustered which was not in her character. So when Joey knocked tentatively on his open door, he just about didn’t hear. Joey was about to knock again, when Digby looked up and smiled. “Come in, come in, Joey. Close the door behind you and sit down. My goodness, you seem a little worried. Is everything all right upstairs?” Joey looked puzzled. Digby pressed on “You know, Sarah? the little ghost?”

“Oh no, sir. Everything’s just fine.” Joey decided to come right out and say what was on his mind, even if he did stammer.  “I’m just worried……..am I not doing my job right? Should I not be taking vegetables to my mother from my….I mean, the Estates…..garden plot?” James, not a man to laugh often, had to suppress a chuckle. “You are doing just fine, Joey. In fact, more than fine. You are a very reliable employee. I wish I’d been that reliable when I was your age. Clean the upstairs to Martha's satisfaction and then to work in the garden as well, making sure you put what ever tools you’ve used away. Of course you are to take the produce you grow to your mother. I understand you are just as diligent with your studies.Your parents must be very proud of you.” Joey was confused. If he was so good, then why did he feel like he was in the principal’s office?

“You’re worried I’m going to fire you, aren’t you, Mr. Tucker? Well, I’m not. In fact, what we need to discuss is whether you want any more work.” Digby was sensitive to Joey’s discomfort so decided that there had been enough small talk. Joey’s face brightened and he stopped stammering. “I’d love more work - is it paid work? What do you need me to do?” Digby thought to himself Good boy. Don’t forget about the dollar. To Joey he said, “Miss Dez needs help in the orchard She needs you to pick apples - have you ever done that before? There are a lot of them. Samuel may be able to estimate how many bushels, but regardless you can take some to your mother because we won’t be able to use them all here. There are frequently apples with minor damage that would just get thrown away. We also send some to the Food Bank and shelters. And you will need help. Do you know anyone else that may want to pick apples for what’s left of the summer and probably into the fall?”

Joey breathed a sigh of relief, thought for a minute and said “Steven - Steven is my best friend. He lives next door and hasn’t had any luck getting work this summer. I think he may jump at this chance. I know a little bit about apple picking, but I don’t know whether Steven does. When do you need to know?”

~~~~~

Joey texted Steven while he was sitting in Digby’s office. Steven got on his bike and came right out to the Estate. The first thing he said was “Do you think I can meet the ghost, Joey?”

“Our greatest fears lie in anticipation.”

~ Honoré de Balzac

Chapter One, Episode 133 - Amelia's Orchard - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Reviewing this Episode, my sometimes disjointed manner of storytelling appeared again. Finding it throughout this episode, an attempt at specifying the changes would have been fruitless. For a mere 550 words in the original post, the revisions took about two hours for me to be satisfied. 

Amelia's Orchard

It is always easier to see things at eye level or below. Those things we cannot see clearly above us have their own fantasy. Images we imagine whether from books or movies. Dez and Emmie could barely see the gargoyles peeking out from the green ivy that climbed the walls and crabbed along the eaves. When a sudden spell of cold, not usual on the Island, brushed against the ivy, the leaves turned from glossy green to golden red. Jaunty caps to soften the gargoyles’ attempt at fearsome glares toward the dangers of the world.  Their game of hide and seek as mysterious as the gargoyles themselves. Each one, a different face carved in granite, watched over the pioneer family that had braved so many other dangers. As years passed, their protection continued for all other Beaufort families as well as the many that had worked for and with them. 

 ~~~~~

Thoughtfully, Emelina spoke softly to her sister. “So it really is history.” They had returned to the upstairs. Recalling one of the books that her husband Michael had cherished, she went to the oaken writing desk in the living room. It had been his father’s great-great grandmother Amelia Beaufort’s diary, the first of many. Laying it open on the coffee table, she called to her sister “Look at this inscription, Dez. The ink has faded but, in her husband’s own hand he says to his wife ‘Amelia, your name means work. Working with great bravery and courage, you have brought our family here. Here we have planted our family and our apple trees. Together we built our house. Each of the gargoyles are your protectors, Your loving husband Michael.’  Emelina ran her hand lightly over the inscription and said “Michael was named after this ancestor, Dez. He was so proud of it.” Her sister picked up the ancient and fragile diary, gently turning each page to see the fading words. “Oh my.” Dez sat on the sofa. “Listen to this, Em: ‘We have faithfully and judiciously watered our apple seedlings. They seem to have taken root as there are new buds on the saplings. We will not be blessed with apples for two years or more, so we must care for them patiently.’ Emmie, your orchard came from Amelia’s saplings!” Dez was in awe. Her so-called title of Project Manager seemed almost flippant in light of Amelia’s words; she felt privileged to be the caretaker of Amelia’s orchard. Emmie had listened quietly to her sister read Amelia’s words penned so very long ago. She imagined a hand carved pen dipped in ink, Amelia writing on precious paper bound in leather. Now when Emelina looked at her house, she would look up at the gargoyles and see the security of a husband’s love. When she looked out at her orchard, she would see Amelia, with her watering can pouring precious drops of water on the saplings that now still stood ~ gnarled, old and real. The insides of the house could be rearranged, the rooms redecorated, but the house and land stood silently untouched, awaiting the care and attention of those that shared its space. 

Emelina and Desperanza Eliot, like many other women in the Beaufort world, had inherited a family history. They had stumbled into it blindly. Emelina by marriage and Desperanza, her sister. But where would they go from there?

“We need to haunt the house of history 

and listen anew to the ancestors wisdom.”

~ Maya Angelou

Chapter One, Episode 109 - The Care and Management of Fruit Trees - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode also took me back several years ago to my time spent part each summer working on a fruit stand in Kelowna, BC (Hazeldell Orchards). Thank you, Allen and Wendy for all that you taught me and the laughter you shared with me!

When I glanced at the word count this morning, (1034 words) I settled in for a long study. Pleasantly surprised with the improvement this episode demonstrated, I really only did some minor wording changes within a sentence or two. 

The Care and Management of Fruit Trees 

The Care and Management of Fruit Trees  The large sign was posted at the entrance to Matt Thornton’s farm! Dez looked again at her brochure. No, it didn’t say anything about who’s orchard or farm that would be hosting the workshop, just provided an address. She hadn’t remembered Matt’s address so, until she was a kilometre away, she never suspected that he would be playing host. Matt had merely referred her to the local Fruit Growers association for workshops and seminars. They had given her the brochure, gone through it with her and took her registration money. The brochure had said to bring a small notebook, a pen or pencil and a bag lunch for the noon break. 

Dez pulled up at Matt’s garage where two cars and a couple of pickups were parked. The attendance was limited to six, two speakers and Matt. Nine people comfortably within the limits for social gatherings. In Matt’s large front yard, he had well spaced metal folding chairs facing a make-shift podium. Fortunately they had a windless, slightly cool summer day for the beginning of this week long event. Hopefully the whole week would have good weather, but should the weather start turning bad, the group would be moved into a quanset behind the garage. All the equipment had been moved outside, giving the group ample spacing.

Dez felt like a real outsider. She caught bits of conversation between orchardists that had obviously known each other for quite sometime. Conversations about grafting, pruning, and starch-iodine tests. Dez wondered why they were here if they already knew about these things. She was curious about it all, but the starch-iodine test really intrigued her. From what she could gather it had to do with testing ripeness.

Just as she was about to enter the conversation, Matt called the workshop to order. Spying Dez in the small group, he nodded to her, smiled and continued with his introductions. “Good morning group. We’re a little bit smaller this year but restrictions say to keep groups under ten people. Just some housekeeping. First the Covid19 questionnaire ………” Dez listened and replied as necessary but was anxious to get going on learning about what to do. The next speaker was an orchardist talking about what was needed to keep a healthy orchard, besides watering. Dez’s mind wandered often, the morning grew warm and her eyelids heavy. There was a short break for water or juice and stretching their legs, but the next speaker brought out a chalk board and Dez was able to take notes. The group was assured that there would be a Q&A period at the end, so there were time for questions. After a short lunch break, the group re-convened at the front of the orchard. They were split into two groups. Each group was led by one of the speakers. The first group started down an outside row of trees. The second group waited until they were six feet away from that first group before moving onward. It gave Dez a different perspective of her own orchard. She could see places where some kind of damage had occurred, like frost, old pruning cuts, and so much more. She had just seen her apple trees as any other trees. Now they were individuals with history right in their bark and the apples that they grow. Some trees already were bearing fruit. The speaker leading the groups would reach out, pull down carefully on the fruit and demonstrate the starch-iodine test. Before their eyes, the pulp of the apple turned yellow with a bit of dark purple. “This apple is not ripe. If it had turned black that would have been marked it as ripe and ready. So for each tree, an apple is sacrificed to determine ripeness of a specific section of your orchard.”

At the beginning of the day, Dez was almost ready to leave, feeling uncomfortable with her newness to orcharding. By noon, she was curious and had questions. At the end of a long and very interesting day, Dez was ready to get back to ‘her’ orchard and inspect it tree by tree. At a table set up with more brochures and some books about orchards, Dez stopped, picked up one each of the six brochures. She was choosing which book to take, when she heard Matt call out her name. “Dez. What did you think of today?”

“I was a bit scared this morning, but as the day wore on I just really loved all the information. My brain is stuffed full. And this is just the first day! Thank you, Matt, for referring me to the Fruit Growers. I am so tempted to get out to the orchard tonight before I go home, but better not. I’ve got notes to review, supper to eat and a good sleep so I can be ready for tomorrow. What’s on the agenda for tomorrow, Matt?” Dez felt like she couldn’t stop talking.

“You’ve got the agenda haven’t you? If not I’ll get you one. But tomorrow is not quite as long because we covered a lot of the housekeeping things today.” Matt was pleased with Dez’s response. This was the first time he had hosted one of these workshops. He had been quite nervous.

“Of course I do - I forgot. It’s in the goody bag that we each got at the beginning with all the info that would be covered. Matt, would you like to come in for supper when you’ve ………. no, you have a lot to do for this. I’ll have you in for supper once this is all over. Thanks again, Matt.” Dez, sounding like a school girl, could feel herself blushing. She and Matt had history. “I’m just going to get on home, Matt and I’ll see you in the morning.” Dez hurried to her car, alone in front of Matt’s garage. With just a little wave to Matt, she backed out, turned around and drove off. Matt was left alone in his yard with a smile on his face.

“I am always doing that which I cannot do, 

in order that I may learn how to do it.”

~ Pablo Picasso

Chapter One, Episode 99 - Sister Talk - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
The first draft of this episode was written and posted on Canada Day. In this episode Sister Talk, I noted some typing errors that I consistently make. Certain very simple words that I almost always misspell, but because the misspellings are still a word, just not the one I want, spell check doesn't catch them, and neither does grammar. They are:  thought (I leave the 't' off making it though), misspell of 'and' (an d - constant since I learned how to type) and 'that' (my fingers always tap out than). I have found each of these in this episode - all corrected. If one can't depend on spell check who can one depend on?

Otherwise, my review revealed the usual gaps of unsupported dialogue, and a need for more fleshing out in certain areas. One example of more fleshing out would be the very first paragraph.

Sister Talk

Dez spent the next day walking the perimeter and the rows of apple trees on the five acre plot. She had her cell phone with her. She would stop every now and then, take a picture, checking to make sure she had gotten the image she wanted, then move on. Counted the number of trees and, with Samuel's help, which trees were in need of some help. Matt Hamilton, an friend of Dez's and an orchardist would also be a huge help to her while she tried to organize the project Emmie had granted her.

Dez had been up before Emmie, and Cook had not yet arrived. Dez found a note addressed to Emmie by the coffee machine from Cook “Miss Emelina, I’m taking this Canada Day off so won’t be in. Chicken salad for sandwiches is in the refrigerator. You know where everything else is. I’ll be in tomorrow. Cook” Dez put the note back where she found it and set about making her breakfast. Cook had chastised her in the past for not eating a good enough breakfast before going out to the orchard to work, so it was scrambled eggs, toast and grapefruit, a glass of milk and a cup of coffee. Crunching on the last crust of toast, Dez cleaned up her dishes and left them in the drying rack. She picked up her cell phone, slipped her tablet, notebook and pencil into a light backpack and headed out to the orchard. The sun was gilding the tops of the low rock outcroppings and filtering through the trees. The air was cool, grass still glistening with dew. Seagulls cried in the distance. Songbirds twittered awake and busy. Dez looked at her orchard, as she had looked at one of her half finished paintings, with an artist’s critical eye. Each time she learned a bit more about the trees, she could see places where, here and there, a touchup seemed necessary, but was often not sure about just what was needed. At one time an apple tree was just a tree with apples on it. The apples arranged in the produce department had no connection to where they came from even though, intellectually, Dez knew they grew on trees. Once in a while she stopped, put her cell phone in her back pocket and pulled out the list of apple varieties Digby had given her. There were only four varieties on the five acres of trees. The ones at the back were old heritage apples - she only variety she didn't recognize was the name Bramley. Cook seemed to think everyone should know Bramley's. “After all”, she said “they make the very best applesauce!” Cook's applesauce was legendary winning blue ribbons at the fall fair which was not to be held this year. Dez had to focus and get back to work. The list: All the varieties seemed set in squares or blocks. Each variety - McIntosh, Granny Smith’s and Red Delicious apples, and of course, Bramly were distinctively different in colour and shape. Talking aloud to herself, with only the trees to hear her she asked  “Ripening time? Had Digby given her that information? Did she lose a piece of paper or should she just look it up? Talk to Matt?”

Emmie's voice interrupted her pocket search for another scrap of paper. “Dez! Lunch time.” Dez looked up at the sun, then down at the digital display on her cell phone. Lunch time? Already? No wonder my stomach is growling at me. Dez was surprised that so much time had elapsed. Although she had been looking at her cell phone frequently while taking pictures of the orchard, having the camera prevented her from noticing time passing. She suddenly understood Samuel’s penchant for looking up at the sun on clear, or even semiclear days. Discovering these nuances of her friend Samuel Forrester and the natural world fascinated her. “On my way, Emmie!” 

Dez met Emmie at the toolshed. She already had the chairs out, the lunch basket on the stump that served as a table and was getting plates and napkins out. Emmie looked refreshed and rested after her exhaustion of the previous night. While she was setting things up she said “I found the note Cook left and made up the chicken salad sandwiches. There was fresh tea in the fridge and a couple of pieces of rhubarb pie left. Will all that do?” 

Dez had taken out a sandwich, had big drink of tea and settled into one of the chairs outside the toolshed. “You had a good sleep? And now you have a day off too, Emmie. You told me you’d been working at the shelter every day for the last couple of weeks.” 

“My ‘brown bag partner’ at the shelter told me that I was looking pretty awful - she was much nicer than that - so I said I’d take some time off. A day or two. I don’t think I’ve worked that steadily at an outside job for years. Guess I’m not used to it. It’s pretty different than attending the fund raisers with the gentrified classes. I know the fund raising is important, but I feel much more satisfied with passing out food to the people we raise the funds for.” Emmie stopped, looked thoughtful and then up at her sister. “We’ve both come a long way in these last few months, Dez.”

Dez licked her fingers of chicken salad and began on the rhubarb pie. Setting the plate on her lap, she grinned and said “I do remember being told by that police officer that I’d have to stay with you or sent up island to some motel. I didn’t know which was worse. Going with a sister I didn’t know any more or being shipped off like so much baggage that needed stowing. Before I could decide, the sergeant - and believe me he was eye candy - had you on my cell phone making arrangements with you to come pick me up.”

Emmie laughed at the memory. “It was when the pandemic lock down restrictions came into force. I was half asleep that night. I didn't know it but, Digby, Martha, Cook and Brigette had left me that morning. Digby had slipped me a note under my bedroom door. There were arrows drawn on the hallway floor in chalk and a lot of sticky notes in the kitchen fluttering at me with more instructions. I guess they were worried I wouldn't know what to do. I hadn’t taken complete care of myself for the five years since Michael had died, they did it for me. I did take the CRV out for a drive often so knew I would be able to pick you up. But, I had to scramble looking for the keys - it was about 3 o’clock in the morning wasn’t it?”

“Hmm…” Dez was in the middle of a bite of pie, swallowed hard and replied “that’s about right. Did you have time to think about the  whole situation on the way into Hartley?”

Emmie took a sip of her iced tea, and thought a moment. “I did! I just about turned around and went back home. Once I was on the way, I suddenly remembered where the call had come from. The city jail! What had my sister become? Would I be in danger? I had no back up anywhere. But I just kept driving believing that it must have been some kind of mistake.” Emmie took out her pie and got them each a glass of tea. 

Dez, finished her lunch and turned to Emmie with a smile. “Look at us now. Mom would never believe it - especially me and this orcharding and studying about bees. Dad would though - I was always outside with him when he was gardening. And you, Emmie, you always acted like a princess, but you were the one always bringing a stray kitten or puppy home.” Dez brushed the pastry crumbs from her lap, folded her napkin and stood up.

“Have you got much more to do out here, Dez? It is a lovely day and I thought we could drive into Hartley for some ice cream.” Emmie finished her tea and packed up the basket. “Dez, look over there. At the cottage. I can’t make out who it is but there’s some people over there. I thought Martha and James had gone for a drive up island. It can’t be them.”

Dez shaded her eyes. “They’re too far away for me to tell for sure, but it is Digby’s car. If it’s not them, I’m concerned.”

“I brought my binoculars with me. Should we spy on who ever it is?” Emmie sounded a bit excited with the prospect. She already had them out, looking through them. “Dez - Look. It is Digby and Martha. Look who’s with them.”

“Samuel……and who’s by his side? It’s Cook! And there’s someone else there too. I don’t recognize him.” Dez, feeling like a guilty child, handed the binoculars back to Emmie. “Let’s go get that ice cream.”

“Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going 

to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.”

~ Chuck Palahniuk,  Invisible Monster

Chapter One, Episode 57 - ReFreshed - Situationally Theirs

July 2, 2020
Review, Edit and Update
The changes I made for this post were word-crafting only. 

When I see that I have used any word more than two times in a sentence or paragraph, I change the last one to a different word. In the second last paragraph, last sentence I changed the word 'he' to the subjects name 'Matt' - replacing one too many he - he- he's!

The other change is actually an addition. When I write things in italics, it is my attempt to write the thoughts of a subject, but sometimes it is not clear to me on my review. In this case, in the last paragraph, I added the sentence 'Cook's thoughts turned to her own longings'. 

ReFreshed

“Martha, d’you know what those two women are up to now?….Martha? ….Martha?….Since you and James have been socializing - and I’m not sure about the distancing part - I can hardly talk with you anymore.” Cook shook her head. “Martha! Cook spoke more sharply this time. 

“What is it, Elizabeth?” Martha turned from her work at the table. “James and I are planning a walk down by that little stream at the back of the property. We’re taking a picnic lunch with us. What were you saying about ‘those two women’?”

Cook chuckled “Are you sure you can pay attention for more than five minutes. You and James both are acting like teenagers living on another planet. James isn’t quite as moony as your are, but he has his moments. The rest of us must be like annoying flies buzzing around in the midst of your bliss. I think that’s the word. Where is James anyway? If he’s already gone I hope he took my list with him.”

“James? He’s gone into the city on some estate business he’s tending to for Miss Emelina…….oh, there you are, James. You sweet man, you brought me flowers. I’m going to have to open a flower shop. …….Elizabeth was about to tell me something.. ..What was it about?”

“Hello James….It’s about Miss Dez and Miss Emelina.…James, did you get my groceries? Here, I’ll just put them away…Anyway, that pair are turning into farmers….what’s the fancy name for it ‘orchardists or something’… They were in here one day last week asking about the apples. What did I think about them. Are they good baking apples? Well, I told them that they were not always that good. Some years better than others, but since Mr. Michael passed on they weren’t getting tended to, no matter how many times Samuel said something. Why, he finally gave up. Went out grumbling that he’d just let them all go. And I guess he did, because the apples haven’t been the same since. …… 

Cook just kept talking as she went back and forth from the table to the refrigerator or pantry putting her groceries away. After putting the last cans of tomatoes in the pantry, she came out dusting her hands on her apron. Martha and James, who hadn’t really been listening, had teacups and cookies out. The kettle was just starting to sing.

“Can I join this tea party or should I go home and leave you to lovebirds alone?” Cook was feeling a little left out. Her two oldest friends, not yet married, were now a couple. There seemed no room for Cook anymore. She had to find a new place for herself, without just getting mad and behaving like another kind of teenager. The kind with an attitude and a smart mouth to go with it. 

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Of course you can join us. Here, give me your mug or would you prefer a teacup.” James felt badly. He knew how close Martha and Elizabeth had been. 

“No James, I like my tea in this mug for now. You know that I miss you two. Feeling like an extra left shoe these days.” Cook sat down with her friends at the table. She wanted to push the flowers away, but didn’t want to push her friends away by doing that. 

“Now what’s all this about Miss Dez and Miss Emelina. They’ve taken an interest in the orchard. Is that what you’ve been trying to tell us?”

“Yes. First it was just bees. I thought that when they found out all the trouble they were getting themselves into, that would just die out. But no. Miss Dez talked to Samuel. He told her that story about his grandpappy that none of even know is true or not. Miss Dez did some study on the Internet and found out about what the bees need to be healthy. That’s when the questions about apples started. They’ve been tromping through that orchard ever since. Why, they even had another orchard man out here to tell them what to do.”

James and Martha had been listening intently. James spoke up. “Elizabeth, from what my dad told me, that story that Samuel tells about his grandpappy is true. There’s even an old piece of wood in the toolshed with initials carved on it. His grandpappy’s and the first Mr. Beaufort’s.”

“I think it’s wonderful to think that old orchard could be revived. James, when we go for that walk and picnic, we could walk through the orchard and maybe see if they’ve started work of some kind. Elizabeth, if they were to get the trees producing good fruit again, you could make those wonderful apples pies you used to make from them. The store bought, or even some from the trees we have, just don’t make a good pie. At least not as good as the original Beaufort apples made.”

Cook drained the last drop of tea from her china mug. Martha, breaking the last sugar cookie in half, gave half to James, kept half for herself. “Thank you, Martha. I have some paperwork to attend to in the office. I’ll see you later this afternoon.” 

The back door opened bringing laughter with it. A motor gunned, the crunch of gravel sounded as a vehicle left the backyard. “Welcome, ladies. Where have you been? You look like you’ve had a busy afternoon. You’ll have to tell Cook and Martha all about it. I have work to do. It’s good to see you both looking so well and happy.” James was especially glad to see his employer happy and laughing. Her many years of grieving alone, despite all the functions she attended, were in the past. She wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

After James had gone, Dez started talking. “We were out in the orchard with Matt Hamilton. Matt of the curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. But seriously, he’s an orchardist and an apiarist - that’s a fancy name for a beekeeper. He’ll be helping us - I mean me - revive the orchard and getting our beehives set up. It will take the rest of the summer for most of it. It’s a big job. Matt’s got his own place to take care of, so he’ll only be over here about once a week or maybe ten days.”

“More teenagers! Sounds like you’ve been revived already, Miss Dez.” Cook laughed out loud. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying a second childhood these days. Cook's thoughts turned to her own longings. Maybe I should go out to that apple orchard or sit under the old redwood to see if I can get some of the magic! I think I’ll just settle for good apples and a dollop of honey. The old house, so empty and sad before this pandemic, was full of life and laughter.

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, 

until another heart whispers back. 

Those who wish to sing always find a song."

~ Plato