Life On Snob Hill: In the Flesh

We have four, poorly sited heirloom apple trees on the property and we can attest to the finicky nature of apple crops — generally poor sunlight, late frosts that damage the blossoms, the biennial nature of some varieties. The past two years have yielded almost no apples, but two trees were rather abundant this year, especially our "favorite" tree, the Lady Apple, also known as the Christmas Apple.

This year has been an interesting one for our Fameuse Apple. According to the “Out On A Limb” website, it is “…also called Snow, is one of the oldest North American varieties. Historians have speculated that the apple may have originated in France, although evidence suggests that it is more likely to have originated in French Canada sometime before 1700. By the 1700’s it was widespread in the Champlain Valley of Vermont, and it may have made its way to Maine via that route.”

How it got to Snob Hill was through a mail order catalog 15 years ago. Ours is a hit-or-miss kinda tree. This year was a hit, but a majority of the crop withered on the tree because it almost immediately began to go bad as soon as it was ripe. We couldn’t eat them fast enough. They hung for a remarkably long time, fermenting and looking like burgundy scrotums.

We had fun this week, using our long-poled apple picker to find a handful of still-good Fameusians.

Again from the website, “Like McIntosh, Fameuse is very susceptible to the disease, “scab”, a cosmetic blemish that can be removed by peeling and does not affect flavor. The apple’s other name – Snow- comes from its “snow white” flesh. It is really, really white. The 1865 Department of Agriculture yearbook summed it up: ‘Flesh-remarkably white, tender, juicy...deliciously pleasant, with a slight perfume... No orchard in the north can be counted as complete without this variety... It is just so good that everybody likes to eat of it; and when cooked, it is white, puffy and delicious.’”

We still have a small basketful of Lady Apples, with many more on the tree. Such is its nature. Who knows if it will bear next year, so we enjoy them when we can.

A final, interesting bit about the Snow Apple, “Here’s an 1889 recipe for something called Apple Snow that might be perfect to prepare using these apples: Pare and core tart, juicy apples; stew with just enough water to keep from burning; sweeten with white sugar; flavor with lemon, the juice is better than the extract; sift through a potato masher or beat it until light; eat with whipped cream.”

It’s easy to see why the Fameuse is also known as the Snow Apple. Like snow, they melt fast.

'Growing Through' Summer on Snob Hill

A relative offered this chair earlier this year, saying, “It’s great chair that just needs a new seat.” Little did he know it was destined to become a Grow-Through chair.

It’s a bit ironic quoting Robert Frost – with that icy surname – as we experience the height of summer here on Snob Hill, but we sweatily embrace his notion that, “The best way out is always through.” The heat and humidity of life here have definitely “built” as they say. The two Hs are a fact of life here in the upper south, an area that may well become the middle south as the planet warms.

We have no choice but to embrace the weather and be grateful for air conditioning. Things may slow a bit in the summer, but they don’t stop. We visited an architectural salvage “yard” last weekend and acquired a length of wrought iron railing for an upcoming project. We also brought home two metal chairs to add to our collection of what we call “Grow-Through” chairs.

This became a thing several years ago when one of us brought home a chair, plucked from a pile of free items on a neighbor’s lawn. We said at the time, “Don’t know why I picked this up, but I like it.” The chair was missing part of its back and had no seat (as none of the Grow-Though chairs have had). For reasons lost to us now, we spray painted the chair purple – a color not in the usual Snob Hill palate. We moved the Purple Chair around the property for a few years before hitting upon the idea to use it as a decorative plant support. That seemed like a risky thing to do because it skirted the practice of repurposing old toilets as planters or bathtubs as grottos for virgin mary statues.

The original Grow-Through, the Purple Chair.

We strive always in the gardens of Snob Hill for balance and conservative use of decorations. With the two new chairs (painted a chartreuse similar to that of the potato vine in a front planter) we don’t want to overdo the use of Grow-Throughs, but these, with their mismatched grape cluster backs, are a welcome addition. It’s too late in the garden season to use them, but we have decided to try to use all of the chairs in what will become the trial Chair Garden.

The Grow-Though chairs serve more than one purpose. Yes, they support tall plants. We like this year’s for a clump of Bee Balm and the first Hollyhock we’ve ever grown successfully. The chairs support the plants, especially after rain, and they protect them from our big-butted dog Maggie, who can unintentionally decimate a garden with her sashaying hind quarters.

We think of our bees, who begin their winter preparations with the summer solstice. The heat and humidity can be unpleasant, but that’s life in this part of the world at this time of year. The cold and too-dry days are ahead of us, and we will dream back to today’s enveloping summer season.

The Grape Chairs, painted and ready for next year’s Chair Garden.