Today I am feeling the same way I did when I handed in a college term paper: immensely relieved. I just made an apple crisp using the last of the apples I'd bought. I probably always thought so, but preparing anything with apples now strikes me as a major chore. I stand in front of the kitchen sink, with apples, bowl, specialty peeler, apple corer device, paring knife and plastic bag for the peels and cores. I peel and core away, and when I think I must be nearing the end of the supply of apples, I look over and see there are still 5 left. I've only done 2. It seems like forever, as if they'll never be done.
I may bake 5 or 6 pies for Thanksgiving dinner each year, but I have never baked an apple pie for that day, and have no plans to ever do so. Baking an apple pie is a reason in itself to declare a holiday.
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