Family Tree
"Are you ready to go apple picking?" Quirin asked his wife and son.
"Almost." Vivienne replied, scooping up Varian. "We've just got to put a hat on Varian. It's still sunny out and we don't want the baby to get sunburned."
Varian squirmed as Vivienne placed the blue hat on his head. "Now we're ready to go the orchard." she announced. "Can you say 'orchard'?"
"Guh ba." Varian replied.
Vivienne laughed. "Well, you'll get it right soon enough. You're growing so fast. I bet someday you'll be as big and handsome as your daddy." she predicted.
"I'm sure he will be." Quirin said judiciously. It was hard to imagine what his son would be like in fifteen years. Tall and broad shouldered perhaps, with a passion for agriculture. At any rate, he'd be a son Quirin could be proud of.
"Come on, Varian. Let's watch daddy pick apples. If he gets enough, he can sell them in Corona and we'll use the money to have our portrait painted." Vivienne explained.
"The first of many family portraits." Quirin envisioned. "You're going to love it, son."
"Glee ga." Varian seemed to agree.
They marched into the fields together, as a family. Quirin bragged how he had grafted 2 new varieties of apples onto a Braeburn tree that spring, so now they had Braeburn, Cox's Orange Pippin, and Bramley growing together. Vivienne was most excited about the Bramley as it made excellent pies. Varian was just big enough now that he could drink a little juice as a treat, although he preferred his mother's milk. But she was certain in time, he would grow to love apples as much as his parents did.
Vivienne grimaced as she felt a pain in her breast.
"Are you alright?" Quirin asked.
"I'm sure it's nothing." she answered, not wanting to ruin the outing. Varian was learning so much that day, and Quirin was thrilled to teach him all he knew about farming.
"Be sure to twist the fruit slightly and lift upwards to break the stem from the branch." Quirin detailed. We leave the spurs on the the tree, and we grip it gently so we don't bruise the apple."
"Ba ba guh." Varian nodded solemnly or perhaps sleepily, Quirin wasn't too sure. But the lesson seemed to be going well, anyway.
Quirin quickly filled up the buckets with apples. "You can tell the apples are mature because the flesh softens. Do you want to squeeze one and see?" Quirin offered a fruit to his small son.
Varian poked at the apple with interest. "Guh ba da!" he was delighted.
"You've got the makings of a great farmer, Varian." Quirin told him. Standing in the field on a warm day, with his wife and son, Quirin was sure his family could handle anything life threw at them. They were farmers and they had a saying, when life gives you apples, turn it into apple juice.
THE END
Quirin's family is a blast to write. Hope you enjoyed.