Lost.

  My vegetable peeler.  Worse, since I'm the only one in the kitchen anymore, I must  be the one who lost it.  Bad enough that a few years ago Dave threw away my spatula from 1968, just because it was split a little and caused his scrambled eggs to become trapped in it.  I did finally adapt to a new one, of the half dozen or so in the drawer, but this is different!  A peeler customizes itself to your grip, becomes a personal appendage, as it were.  It was an Ekco, costing probably $.39 back in the day, and I own at least 4 more.  But the original was irreplaceable.
    I had bought a peck of apples at ShopNSave about a week and a half ago, breaking my longtime so-called tradition of going to Borden's. We went every year, Ma and Helen, then with Mary and Dorothy B, later with my own kids in whatever configuration would fit in the car.  We would buy apples, cider, sometimes pears. When the kids grew up, and away, it was back to Ma and Helen then only Helen and me.   Much later, I would go by myself, a much shorter trip.
     Last year I went and bought the half-bushel of apples, and spotted some peaches in the case. They looked good.  I'm always wary of peaches, so I asked the woman at the counter how they were.  She said she'd had some and she thought they were very good.  That was the beautiful sunny day that I brought my luscious-looking peach out to the deck, along with a paring knife because I don't like anything fuzzy in my mouth and a napkin to take care of the juice.   I sliced a piece of the peach, saw not a trace of juice, put the slice in my mouth and it was like a wad of cotton.  I remember standing on the deck and cursing that peach as I hurled it down into the woods.
    So I bought the apples at the grocery store this year; the Borden's tradition  now a bygone memory.  The apples were from the Borden's orchard though, and just  a peck, probably only about 16 or 17 apples.  Last week I made an apple pie.  I don't know how it came out. And today I decided to make applesauce.
Even at best, a bag of apples sitting on  my kitchen table reminds me of homework.  I need to break it into manageable sections.  First, always, an apple pie, then applesauce, and back in the glory days an apple crisp.
    I enjoy the finished products, but have never liked preparing the apples.  Too many steps: wash them, peel them, section them, and remove the "fingernail" parts.  I depend on the peeler, and now I can't find it.  I never put it in the dishwasher, always put it in a certain section of the appropriate drawer, and it's not there.  I'm afraid I may have discarded it along with the peels from the pie.  So more than likely no more apple pies, and Mott's applesauce.
    (If I hear one more comment about DT, I don't know what I'll do...