The fourth story, as inspired by a compliment once paid to me by Kits, one of the premier authors of the fandom…
“Apples to Apples”
Well howdy!
This here is yer old friend Applejack, here today to meet on up with ya’ and provide some of mah insight into apples, apple farming, and the use of apples round about the kitchen, farm, and homestead and such like that there!
Now, I don’t want tah’ alarm anypony, but there seems to be a misconception going around that any apple is just as good as another for any old task. Someponies seem to think that ya’ can mix and match any variety o’ the fruit and expect the same results.
Hogwash! Utter hogwash, and that by golly is Celestia’s truth!
Ya’ just can’t go around being all scatter-shot about it! Nope! Ya’ got to compare yer apples to… well, yer other apples, and then you’ll know which one is best fer what ya’ want to go and use ‘em fer!
Now, I’m gonna tell ya’ ‘bout some of my favorites, and what they are best for, and you pay right good attention, ya’ hear?
Now, let’s start off with a good old down home favorite. This here is a Braeburn apple, and it’s nice and sweet and tangy. It’s got a nice little smell to it and it’s plenty juicy, I can tell ya’ that fer truth!
It’s best tah use it for snackin’ and cookin’…
… like, like when the whole Apple clan would get together, all of ‘em from the farthest reaches of Equestria. We’d all get hugs and kisses from mah grandpappy and mah aunts and uncles. The cider would flow for days and there’d be picnic tables as far as mah filly eyes could see, spread out across Sweet Apple Acres.
We, all the foals that is, would play down in the creek. Big Mac, our cousin Braeburn whose mark this here apple matches, an mahself. Back then, in the days when we were just foals who didn’t have so many cares.
We would sneak up into the corncrib and watch the stars come out, back before we all grew up and got all responsible and the like…
… back before our troubles.
Oh, ummm, yessir, movin’ right along then.
Now, what I have fer ya’ next is an apple that will always find a good place at yer table!
This here is an Empire apple, and ya’ can tell it apart from other apples by the bit o’ green mixed in with the red. It’s a strong apple that can deal with a lot o’ abuse.
The Empire is a good ole blend of sweet and tart, but it is just as crisp as ya’ please.
It does more than it’s fair share… bein’ good at eatin’ right off the tree, bein’ baked, made into sauce, pies, and it keeps well when ya’ freeze it.
Yup, the Empire does a lot more than you’d think… maybe even more than it should…
… kinda like mah’ brother Big Macintosh. Heh, it better fits him than the apple he’s named after, now that I think on it a touch.
It’s a good apple for yer’ brother to share with you as he finds ya’ sittin’ and cryin’ in a haystack, the sweat running off of him, seeing as he spent an hour looking for ya’. It’s a good apple for him to cut into slices and give ya’ one by one as he promises that everything will be okay, that he’ll be sure to do whatever he can to help Granny Smith… that’s he’ll look out for ya’ and your baby sister too…
It’s a good apple to put into yer’ brother’s saddlebag as he leaves to join his artillery battery. It’s a good apple for him to eat on as he awaits the call to the limbers.
It’s a good apple to bring him in the hospital.
It’s a good apple to give him as you sit him down and tell him that he’s doin’ to much around the farm, that he needs to take it easy or his wound will open up again. It’s a good apple to keep between the two of ya’ as yer voices start to rise…
It’s a good apple for yer’ brother to share with you as he finds ya’ sittin’ and cryin’ in a haystack, the sweat running off of him, seeing as he spent an hour looking for ya’. It’s a good apple for him to cut into slices and share with ya’ as you remind each other that yer family… that you’ll get through this together…
It’s a good apple to bring down to the fencepost in a big old basket when ya’ see him chattin’ with a local mare, tah offer to her with a big smile… an apple to let him know that you think he needs a mare, that he doesn’t need to sacrifice everything for yer’ farm, that you want him tah’ be happy.
That’s your path, ain’t it? That is what you’ve deci…
I’m sorry, went off there a touch. Sorry ‘bout that.
Where were we?
Oh, yeah… the wonderful world o’ apples and their different uses!
Our next apple here is called the Cortland! And it’s quite a special apple, if you’ll take mah word for it, as I hope ya’ do.
The Cortland don’t brown too easy, and when push comes down tah shove it’ll show ya’ that there’s some tart hidden in there as well as the sweet.
It comes around in the early fall, and it last all through spring if ya’ store ‘em good an proper.
Heh, now I’m thinkin’ on mah family again. How do you suppose it is that Granny Smith got her mark as one of those apples when the would Cortland fit her that much better?
Yessir, the Cortland… it’s a good apple. It’s a good apple that takes a lot of abuse and don’t brown to easy. It’s an apple that you can give your Granny when she becomes the one ya’ come home to after school, as she becomes the one who looks after the lot of ya’.
It’s an apple that keeps for a great long while… keeps like Granny Smith keeps all of the old ways, knows the old secrets passed down to her from the generations o’ earth ponies before. It’s a good apple to wait on when the Zap apples come into season and mah Granny begins to call on her magic to make the fruit give up their secrets once more.
It’s a good apple to slice up for her, serve her as her bones ache and she needs to sit in the chair. It’s a good apple to juice too, one that ya’ can serve to her in a nice tall glass full of ice as she naps in the sun.
It’s a good apple, the Cortland… a good way to show yer old Granny that ya’ love her. You know she should be in Foalida with all her friends, yet she stays here because she loves ya’ right back and doesn’t want you to work so hard, that she wants her granddaughter to stop bein’ so responsible and just be hap…
There I go, goin’ off again… powerful sorry about that, mah apologies. Gimmee just a moment tah round-up mah thoughts.
Let’s take a lookee at another fine apple, friend. Whatcha say to that, partner?
Here’s the Gala apple! This one here is a good apple for foals to snack upon. Ya’ see, it’s got a nice little flavor to it, and its skin is nice and thin so it won’t be too hard to bite through! It’s a nice little bit of an apple, not too big, so it’s easy for fillies to place in their hooves.
It’s a good apple to drop in her saddlebag… mah sister, Applebloom’s, that is, as she jumps out the door in the mornin’, ready to head off down the path to the red school house over the hill. It’s a good apple to feel rolling around in there as she gives us each a hug and a squeeze and we watch her head on off down the road.
It’s a good apple to put among all of their supplies as she and her friends head off on another adventure tah find their marks. It’s a good apple to have nice cold cups of juice made out of. That way, when they come back to their clubhouse with their faces hanging low and covered with all sorts of dust and bother, they have something to look forward to.
It’s a good apple to cover with melted sugar or caramel. It’s a good apple fer sittin’ on the porch and sharin’ with her on a late summer night, just before she’s ready for school to start again. It’s a good apple to get sticky with as we talk about girl stuff and the hot air hangs ‘round the porch and we talk about our day down at the fairgrounds.
It’s a good apple… a good apple to have sit in her tummy as I help her wash the stickiness out of her coat and get her all washed up for bed nice an’ proper. It’s a good apple to give her sweet dreams as I tuck her in at night.
It’s a good apple, just like mah little sister… just like mah perfect little sister I’m tryin’ so hard to be good to, be both a sister and a mothe…
We… we ain’t gonna get too far through this list if I keep stoppin’, now are we? Heh, I-I do apologize. I’m powerful sorry about that.
Our, next apple is the... oh, Celestia.
Our-our next apple is the, mah word, the Honeycrisp.
The Honeycrisp is a new apple, one that just sort showed up recently, and doesn’t get seen nearly enough… at least in mah opinion.
It’s a powerful… juicy, juicy apple that seems… seems to have hit the spot each time ya’ taste it. It’s a good apple, one that does all sorts of things without much complaint… not that apples can complain, of course. It’s… it’s kinda like a friend of Big Macintosh’s, one from his old artillery battery that came around to visit…
… if you’ll let me stretch upon a metaphor.
He comes by and gets to helpin’, stays a good long while and lends a hoof around the farm while Big Mac heals up proper.
The apple… it’s a good compliment to most salads and eatin’ right away. It’s a handsome thing too… like a friend who takes on the work of a hired hoof without a word of complaint, one with a light colored mane and a rugged stance that gives way tah somethin’ more, one that says he’d be just as happy clearing a field as readin’ up on philosophy or some such.
One with eyes that are soft and who always meet mine with a smile and a warm greeting.
Ones that I have to turn away from with a blush… the apple that is. No, hold on there… that didn’t make a lick of sense. Let-let me… oh my…
Any-anywho, this here Honeycrisp apple, it’s a right good apple, one for which I have a soft spot.
It’s a good apple, one that’s fit for celebratin’ a good friend when his other responsibilities makes him take leave of the farm, for when Big Macintosh is all healed up and his old army buddy is soon to hit the road once more.
It’s a good apple to serve sliced with caramel, one fit for dunkin’ and the like, and I arrange it as such upon the platter… hopin’ that somehow he’ll see it and know I did that little extra bit, just to show him how grateful I am.
It’s a good rugged apple, one that can handle a jog through the rain. It doesn’t bruise easy as I pelt through the rainstorm that some dummy field hoof (named Caramel!) forgot to check the weather schedule for!
It’s a good apple to have with me as ‘ah arrive in the barn just to find that the guest of honor and I are the only ones to have found a hidin’ spot there.
It’s a good little apple, one that makes the conversation go easy there in the barn, an apple whose slices we take turns dunking in the caramel and eating as the other speaks.
It’s a good apple to have in my mouth as he catches mah eyes again, his same warm smile meeting me, as he makes me blush again like I’m some schoolyard filly…
No stallion ever looks at me that way, not enough to make me blush.
As the rain drives against the roof of the barn, the patter of the drops making their nice slow rhythm, our conversation goes a touch sideways. As I reach down out of turn to dunk my slice of Honeycrisp into the caramel he’s already there, dunking his. As I rear up in surprise my slice falls from my lips, leaving his slice dangling between us as he meets me once more with those eyes.
It’s a good apple, the Honeycrisp, a right good apple… one to ponder as he motions to me with small movements, his smile behind the slice certain and generous.
It’s a good apple, one that is good to lean into and take small bites from as he holds it there for me, being as strong as he’d been since he first arrived here at the farm, being as tender as he’d been all along…
It’s a good apple, one I take the bites of until there’s none left… until I give up on mah feelings and lean in for the touch of his lips.
No stallion had ever… ever made me want to kiss him before…
As the rain kept coming down I followed his lips, let him lead me to the great stack of hay that sat loose, let him lay me there with him, let him grasp my hoof in his.
As the sound of the rain drives against the roof o’ the barn he holds my hoof. He lies there besides me and tells me that he sees it all. He sees how much I love mah family, how much I struggle for them, that he’s never seen such a strong mare…
No stallion had ever called me strong before… no, no stallion ever…
He lifts the hat from my head, arranges it nearby nice and proper, and draws his free hoof through my mane, across my cheeks.
As he tells me how wonderful I am… how mah friends rely on me, how he sees how I’m trying so hard. He tells me that he’s been in awe of me since the second he turned onto our road and Big Macintosh pointed me out to him.
No stallion had ever told me I’m wonderful before, ya’ see.
I unwrap mah forelegs, let his free hoof explore mah chest, mah barrel, the spaces hidden in the hollow of my neck. All the while he stares down into me, blinking his eyes… eyes that match mine when I’m being as honest as I can be…
He puts his hat under mah head, letting it get all crumpled so that the straw won’t tickle mah ears. As he does he says that he wishes he had the guts to tell me sooner, that he apologizes for all the times I’d caught him looking at me.
But I don’t remember that, I just remember his smile, I say. That makes him happy, and we chuckle for the first time since laying ourselves in the hay.
With that he tells me I’m beautiful.
He tells me I’m beautiful, and then he kisses me again. I can hardly breathe as he says it once more.
No stallion has ever told me I’m beautiful. As I search his eyes I see that he means it, that he sees… that he thinks I’m beautiful.
I let his free hoof go up and down the stifle and gaskin of my rear legs. I let him… no, dammit, need him… to make the tiny circles across my coat, to feel his touch race through me…
Mah head settles back onto his hat, my eyes close and my lips hang open. With that he kisses me once more, and then begins his long song of how he hopes all of my dreams come true, how sorry he is to be leaving, how sad he is that he won’t be the stallion to give them to me. Each word makes mah heart pound, each word… makes his touch feel that much more real.
He goes on… goes on about how he hopes, prays, that all the good things I’ve earned come mah way, tells me that I deserve tah be happy…
He tells me how wonderful he thinks I am.
He tells me how strong he feels I am.
How tells me, again, how beautiful he knows I am.
Ah lean mah head back farther as the gentle sound of the rain fills mah ears and the sweet smell of the straw fills mah nose, and with that I part mah knees.
I feel him grasp my hoof harder, askin’ for the permission that I grant him with a single nod. His other hoof moves slowly, and after a few long, gentle, teasing motions he finds…
Oh gracious! Oh Celestia! Oh Luna!
Now, wow… wow, you’ll need to forgive a cowfilly, I-I don’t know why I let that come out… I, oh gracious, didn’t mean to be so…
Oh, Celestia…
I-I reckon that we’ve talked enough about apples today. I hope… I hope that this here has been informative for ya’, and that we’ll see ya’ round to Sweet Apple Acres before too long, and that you’ll employ yer’ new skills at selectin’ some o’ our fruit. We could really use the business, as I’m sure ya’ know.
I hope I haven’t taken up too much of yer time, friend, and…
…and, and I thank ya’ kindly for lettin’ me chew yer ear as I compare apples to Apples, as it were.
Much obliged.
End.