Working a farm isn’t something most ponies can do.
I don’t mean to brag, but it takes a whole lot more than most ponies would think. When it is your livelihood, you’ll do anything to make sure the crops grow, things you would never dream of doing with a garden or even a hobby farm. It could be all sorts of things, from checking for pests and blight, to tilling and fertilizing a field at the crack of dawn. It isn’t a one pony job, or even a two-pony job for that matter, and to that end me and Mac often want to hire help. I say “want”, because help doesn’t come cheap. Sure, our friends will lend a hoof here and there, but it ain’t right letting them do everything. More often than not it leaves our family pulling late hours in the field, working every second of light for what it is worth.
‘Course, that amount of work really takes a toll on a pony. Sure, ponies pride themselves on their endurance, but working hard everyday is a little different. It isn’t just like the Running of the Leaves. It’s a race that never ends. Because, when you finish one thing, there’s something else waiting. There’s always stuff to do, be it repairing the barn, or storing food for the winter. Yeah, only those who’ve never worked on a farm take it for granted.
The thing is, sometimes it’s just too much. Life has a way of just knocking you down, setting you right on your flank at the drop of a hat. It could be something unexpected like an injury, or a bout of bad weather, but something will cause you trouble sooner or later. Just because life can be nasty, though, doesn’t mean you can’t beat it. You see, there’s a little rule I like to go by, one which helps me rein in anything life throws my way.
When you fall down, you get back up.
Short and simple. It doesn’t matter how you fell, but so long as you can stand, there ain’t no reason to give up. Some ponies might call it being stubborn, I just call it being determined. Takes a bit of spunk and spirit, but anypony can do ‘most anything. Even if it turns out they can’t, they're no worse off for it. Fact, I think you learn more that way; lessons learned the hard way really stick in your mind. Take when I tried to harvest all the apples by myself last applebuck season, for instance. Now, ponies might call me many things, but that doesn’t make me anything more than plain old Applejack. I gave it my best, but when even that wasn’t enough, I let my friends help.
Now I ain’t good with words like Twi is, but I wager I can still get my point across. See, for a time, I thought I could stand on my own and weather the storm. Hah! I should have known better. If you plant a tree on its lonesome, I guarantee the first storm that comes barreling through will bring it down. Now, plant it with other saplings, and even if the lot of them ain’t even eye level, none will fall. Instead, they’ll shelter and support each other. Life’s just like that; if you don’t surround yourself with others, you’ll surely topple.
Running Sweet Apple Acres... Beggin’ your pardon; I shouldn’t sell my brother or my family short like that. Helping run Sweet Apple Acres is just like that. It takes more than the efforts of a single pony, it takes many. But even if it wasn’t true, I’d still accept it over working alone. Sure, two heads are better than one, many hooves make light work and all those sayings, but that’s not the only reason. Surrounding yourselves with ponies who care for you, especially when they’re family, changes everything.
For a lot of folk around these parts, family is all you got, all you need. They’re right. After all, who else will stick by you through thick and thin? Who else will put up with your shenanigans? Family isn’t always easy, but heaven knows it is worth it. I’d never give up my family for anything in the world. Now I might be the Element of Honesty and all, but if you need to hear it from me, it ain’t a lie. And I’ve been blessed with a family more precious than I ever deserved.
What really makes family, though, and are they just determined by blood? No, not for a second. However, I wouldn’t trade my Granny, Big Mac and Apple Bloom (even with all she puts us through) for anything in the world. Don’t care if I was offered the keys to Canterlot Castle. Family isn’t something you can just put a price on. Like I was saying though, I refuse to think you can be so narrow-minded with family. Heck, just look at RD and Scootaloo. Want to try and tell them they ain’t sisters?
See the thing is...
Sorry, but this ain’t exactly the easiest thing to put into words. You can’t just explain away this whole idea of family so easily, and now I’m starting to think I’ve gotten in a little over my head. Family is just like...
Hmm, give me a moment...
Apple pie.
Yeah, that sounds about right; family is just like apple pie.
How many of ya’ll can cook? Tossin’ a meal together is one thing, but really cooking–pies, cakes, fritters, that sort of thing–takes some talent. There’s so many things that go wrong. The difference between something you can really be proud of and a good try might be the smallest thing.
No, it didn’t have to be apple pie, but, well... you get the idea. It ain’t called Sweet Apple Acres for nothing.
Anyway, how many of y’all have ever baked a pie? I’m not talkin’ about those pre-made crusts with the mixes of spice already prepared to toss on the apples. No, I’m talking right from scratch. If you have, you’ll get what I’m saying, and if not, you’ll understand soon enough.
Now, the first part of any pie, before you start stirrin’ or cuttin’, is gathering the ingredients. What you put in the pie plays a bigger part than a lot of ponies realize. If you tried to make a good apple pie out of some dried apples, even if you were the best cook in the world, there’s no way the pie is going to turn out. It simply won’t happen.
To that end, the ponies you call family matter. You can’t expect to have a traditional family if all of you are anything but traditional. Doesn’t matter how much you want it, you can’t make an apple pie with pears. But there are plenty of other things you can make, and all of them are just as good.
Livin’ in Ponyville exposes you to these sort of things. You have ponies like ol’ Filthy and his daughter, Rarity and her family, Pipsqueak and his brother... Can you call any of those families normal? Sure as hay hope not, else things around here would become just a little too crazy. That being said, it doesn’t change just how much they love each other. Not much will change it, for that matter, save somepony trying to force the bond between them to become something else.
Isn’t that what breaks up most families anyway? Every time I hear of a family drifting apart, something happened that changed their lives. A bond that was meant to exist one way is distorted into something hideous. It could happen slowly or just over a week. Perhaps I’m wrong; I know I’m not the best pony to talk about that, so I’ll stick to what I’m sure of.
So now that you’ve gathered everything, it’s the time to start making the crust and cutting the apples. It’s really two different tasks, but many hooves make for easy work. You’d have to be mighty quick if you to make it on your own, else the apples and the crust might start to dry out. To that end, you have to split the work to ensure that everything turns out (sure, I could just talk about myself and Mac harvesting, but you already know about that).
Apple Bloom can be a right hoofful at times, but I know she means well by it. Everyday, she tries to help us with our chores, but when we aren’t watching her, just about everything that can go wrong does. Sure, she can make zap apple jam, and do a few simple chores around the farm, but anything more than that... Well, to be blunt, she has a knack for making messes. I love her more than anything, but I don’t know if I have the honesty to tell her that perhaps our talents aren’t meant to be hers. I’m sure she’ll figure it out eventually, and when she does, we’ll be right there for her, her part in our life waiting.
So once all the ingredients are prepared, you can start mixing them together. Takes a careful touch, and the right combination of spices, but almost any bunch of apples can be made into a delicious pie, something to really make your mouth water. Now, something important in this step: if something starts to go wrong, don’t stick to the plan, just wing it. I’ve seen more desserts ruined when somepony insists on following a recipe, even when it should be obvious it ain’t the route the take. Family is a lot like that: you take it as it comes, and try to enjoy it as you can. Sure, you can plan ahead, but in the end, if it isn’t sweet enough, you just gotta add a little sugar.
This year here at Sweet Apple Acres hasn’t been a good one for us. A few trees in the orchards caught some sort of blight from the Everfree. Now, Mac took care of it pretty quick, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop it from spreading and killing a whole whack of blossoms. Our harvest this year didn’t shape up to be all that great, and with most of our money coming from apple sales... We’d be in a whole heap of trouble if we had tried to live this year like every other. Luckily, we had other plans. Though we grow mainly apples, we do have a few other crops. Carrots, celery, corn... We do grow other things here; it’d be stupid not to, but in the end, all they did was soften the blow.
Remember how I mentioned it helps to have family? Well, Braeburn really came through for us this year. They had a bumper crop of apples, giving them loads more than they knew what to do with. Now I didn’t expect charity, nor could Braeburn offer that much. Instead, he had an idea. Cider season normally lasts so long as we have extra apples. Though we had to pay back Braeburn for the apples, it still made us a tidy profit.
By now, I’m sure the pie is looking mighty fine, but you still have to cook it. Now, turn up the oven, drop it in, and wait. Yes, you have to wait. Anything worth havin’ is worth waitin’ for. The same is true for family. An orchard doesn’t grow in a day after all.
Many years ago, just before I got my cutie mark, I left home and headed to the city to live with my aunt and uncle. Manehattan is a beautiful city, bursting with everything you’ve ever laid eyes on. Doesn’t matter what it is, you can find it there. Well, almost anything, that is. Now, don’t go assuming I left the city because I couldn’t handle the bustle; given time I sure I could have gotten the hang of it. I left the city because there was one thing missing. I have three apples on my flank for a reason after all.
Apple Bloom, Granny Smith and Big Mac. One for each of them, representing both my love of apples, and the ties to my family. While you’re waitin’ on a train ride, you’ll figure out how much they mean to you. When you’re waitin’ on the birth of a sister, you learn what it means to be one. When you’re waitin’ on word of a loved one after a storm, you can’t help but think of life without them. When you’re watchin’ a pie bake, you think about how it is going to turn out, regardless of the effort.
With any part of baking comes my favourite part: eatin’ it. A slice of apple pie steaming from the oven, with a flaky crust that melts in your mouth, topped with a dollop of whipped cream... Oh, does it ever taste good. I’ll tell you, if I could live the first bite of an apple pie forever I would. It’s a lot like your family. For we all want to live in that perfect moment of happiness forever.
Sadly, it isn’t always that easy. Any pie can turn out poorly, no matter who was cookin’ it. It’s a fact of life, and sometimes bad things happen. Families can drift apart, or worse, separate entirely. Could be a few harsh words spoken to another than could never be taken back, or something far worse. All the advice I can give is to keep moving forward. There’s a place for everyone in this world, and it doesn’t matter who you are, you’ll eventually get there, so long as you never quit searching.
Then, in a few minutes, you are finished. The pie is gone, and only the dishes remain. But you realize something was missing. In fact, you’ll always realize a taste was missing. Nothing is perfect, not even families. For us, the two empty seats at the table will tell you who is missing for us.
I’m not sure who took Ma’s and Pa’s passing harder: Granny or Mac. Neither of them talk about it much, but Granny had to bury her son, and Big Mac had fill the void, being the eldest. Those were hard years, but you know what? They actually brought us closer together. Even in our darkest days we could count and rely on each other. Without my family, I don’t even want to think about how it could’ve turned out. I know for a fact that Big Mac would have given up if not for us.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, family endures.
Some might have called this year a dud, but that’s a rather boring way to look at things. As this year is drawing to a successful close, I’d like to think that it’s just been life: as interesting as ever. The last of the leaves have just fallen, and there’s a real chill to the air. Won’t be long till the snow now. The farm work is pretty much done for the year, save for prepping for next. We spend a lot of our time in the house, working on something like making jam or spending time with each other. Tonight, we just happened to wind up baking. Not pie, mind you, but perhaps it’s the similarities where all of this has come from.
It’s just the four of us in the kitchen, all clustered around the table. The heat of the oven is warm and comforting, filling the room with a pleasing scent. Mac is working the dough, ever reliable and dependable, while Granny tries to help me cut the apples. I say “tries,” because judging by the way her eyelids are drooping. It won’t be long now before she goes for a nap on the rocking chair by the stove. Apple Bloom is handling the spices, measuring them eagerly.
Now, I never said she wasn’t making a mess of it; she probably has more of on the table than it her bowl. Mac chuckles softly as he notices something, still kneading the dough. I love my brother’s laugh; it’s a low deep rumble that puts me at ease. Granny perks a little at the sound, smiling warmly as her tired eyes spies what it is. Apple Bloom, being the filly she is, stops and tries to see what’s so funny. She looks to me, tilting her head adorably.
I can’t help but let loose a guffaw. For all the sugar on Bloom’s face, she’s practically sparkling. I touch her cheek, pulling back my hoof to show her what it is. She stares at my hoof crosseyed, before it comes to her. Within moments, she is giggling. A few seconds later, we are all laughing, struggling to stand in our mirth.
I can’t think of any place I would rather be than with these ponies. For all their faults and all their annoying habits, they’re still family. They know me and I know them. In them, I see the foundation of my life, the joy and the wisdom. I know of their sorrows, reflections of my own. But of everything, I see their love, devotion and care for me, for us. Family isn’t always easy, but the reward...
Well, it’s like they say. A pie worth eatin’ is a pie worth makin’.