My beautiful souled neighbour once had a husband who passed many years ago.
He was a keen gardener and grew all varieties of fruit and vegetables all year round in his green house and tended his garden and orchard with as much care as he tended his loving wife.
Upon his passing, the garden grew wild and the green house into disrepair over many years, but the orchard stayed strong, yielding much fruit, too much for my neighbour to manage.
The years grew longer still and although the entrance to the orchard became over grown and inaccessible, neighbours could see the beautiful fruit trees heavy with apples.
Today while my neighbour was out, (don’t worry we get on very well enough for this), I popped over the fence with a bucket.
I’ve gathered a full bucket of apples which I will now prepare as a surprise so she may once again eat her husbands apple pie, albeit cooked by me.
As I salted the apples to soak and washed them I thought of all the love that went into the orchard and how now my new plan will be to make it once more accessible to her so she may see it’s fruits and beauty in her final days.
I hope she actually likes apple pie.
Stop Walking on Egg Shells 