Apples

Coming in the next five years

We recently made a rocket trip to Rochester, Minnesota, for a routine check-in with my specialist there. Mayo Clinic is in the early years of a five BILLION dollar expansion, with targeted completion in 2030, and when it is finished, my beloved Mayo will look even more like the Emerald City of Oz. 

Despite the rush of the trip (it was hemmed in by Warren's classes, medical tests here, rehearsals, and more), we nonetheless fit in a stop that I have dreamed about for years.

Years. 

Decorah, Iowa is about 72 miles south of Rochester, Minnesota on US 52. Decorah is a small community (about 8000) with a private college in the town. We weren't there for the college. No, we were there to stop at and explore Seed Savers Exchange, a non-profit organization that, per its website, is "the nation’s largest nongovernmental seed bank of its kind (some 20,000 varieties) at Heritage Farm" (which is where we were). 

I was not disappointed.

The Exchange encompasses about 890 acres, some of it in pasture, some of it in orchards, some of it in experimental gardens (experimental in that they are testing the viability of old, old (literally or figuratively) seeds). 

Okay, I splurged at the Visitors Center. (Yes, I know: "splurge" is a word I never use.) Some seeds for us, some seeds for friends, a Seed Savers T-shirt, and an etched small gourd ornament for our Christmas tree. (The ornament, unfortunately, was lost somewhere between Rochester and our home.) We wandered through some of the experimental gardens; these zinnias were part of that:

And then we went to the Historic Orchard.

Oh my. 

At the Historic Orchard (one of two orchards on the property), the apples date back into the 1800s. Visitors are allowed to pick up to five gallons of apples for free. We were the only visitors in the orchard, and Warren and I wandered through, both gaping at the assortments and picking various ones to carry back with us to Ohio. You would come across a tree maybe only five feet tall, bent over with apples, and then turn to see a much taller one of a different variety.

One of the smaller trees; I could pick from its very top.

In the end, we picked a tote bag full and put it in the car to carry them home:

Our haul! 

The next day at Mayo, we shared a meal with dear friends who drove down from Minneapolis to spend a few hours with us. While we laughed and talked in the Eisenberg Cafeteria (truly the best food in downtown Rochester, and there is great food in Rochester), a woman came up to our table. We had been talking politics, and I thought maybe we were too loud and she wanted to comment.

Not at all. She pointed to my Seed Savers t-shirt and asked me if I had been there. 

I beamed. "Yes! We were just there yesterday! It's amazing!" 

She asked more questions: How far away is it? Was it easy to get to from Rochester?

With every answer, the smile on her face grew wider.

She had to be in Rochester for the next two months for treatment. Before that started, while she could still get out and about, she wanted to go to Seed Savers Exchange.

She then posed her own question.

"Do you know they partner with Svalbard?" 

I nodded; yes, I knew that.

"I was at Svalbard this summer," she added.

Now it was my time to ask questions. Svalbard! What took her to Svalbard? Was she visiting? Was this a tourist trip? 

No, she had worked there this summer. We all stared at her. She smiled and added, "I only work above 61 degrees or below 61 degrees." 

While we puzzled out that answer, she laughed and explained: "I'm a polar scientist."

Only at Mayo can you be eating lunch in the hospital cafeteria and have a polar scientist come up to to you and start chatting. I hope she made it to Decorah.

We drove 11 hours the next day, Tuesday, to get back to Delaware, and we made it in good spirits. After an evening of only necessary tasks and a morning of catching up (the laundry, the mail, checking in with my dad), I turned my attention Wednesday afternoon to the historic apples.

Apples.

Lots of apples. 

A sink full of apples

Apples with textures and colors and tastes that I have never seen, let alone held, peeled, and tasted. These apples predate the "modern" varieties of the 1900s, let about those apples of the current century. Some were the size of a child's fist. Some had green flesh beneath the peel. Some had orangish flesh. Some were truly snowy white. 

Nearing the end of the apples

It was exhausting. It was amazing. 

The long view

The kitchen was full of the smell of apples. My fingertips were stained a light orange/red from peeling so many apples. After it was all over, I had six quarts of peeled and sliced apples, labeled "Ancients," in bags in the freezer. 

I penned this out last night and am typing it in this afternoon. While I wrote, Warren was an hour away in Mansfield as the Mansfield Symphony opened its 105th season. (Warren has played with it for 45 years of that 105-long year run!) I no longer go with him on performance day, as the afternoon rehearsal and evening concert make for a 11+ hour day, beyond my capacity, but I went up with him for the Friday night rehearsal. Given our week of travel and appointments and labs and scans and family matters, let alone the apples, even "just" going up for the rehearsal was about the limit of my energy, but I did it with love and delight.

And, by golly, we have apples. I swear there is still a faint tinge of apples in the air of our home. 

And that, my friends, is a gift.