Where It All Began 26

Our new home was a field. It was an apple farm after all. We were the first to arrive, and the boss told us it would be few days before we would start work. Funds were low, so we had jam sandwiches for lunch and salad every day for dinner. Luckily the blackberries were ripe so a late summer evening walk provided us with a pudding. Eventually the field filled with prospective apple pickers and we started work. He paid £40 for every crate you filled and I was managing four per day. Sadly it started to rain on the first day and continued for over three weeks, the cheap Argos tent leaked and we had to put the duvet in the hop house to dry each day.

There was a great mixture of people, Scots, English, and an Italian lad. When you pick an apple you can’t dig your fingers in, you must use the palm of your and gently twist it off. When you drop the apples into the crate it has to be done gently. These are key rules to prevent bruising. Everyday an inspector picks three apples from your crate, ripens them overnight and if you have bruised apples three days on the trot you’re fired. The young Italian sang. He sang all day as he tugged the fruit from the tree and slammed it into the crates. The inspector returned every morning and gave him a warning. As entertaining as it was, I tried to tell my Italian friend, but in return he would say. “Va tutto bene, è tutto bellissimo,” and smile. They fired him on the third day. Because of the continuing damp weather Sally’s asthma got worse and she became quite ill. I looked in the local paper and found a proper tent for £30. I picked it up and erected it the same night. It was larger and older than I had anticipated and the next day the farmer enquired as to who had built a house in his field.

At least Sally was dry and she took a few days off. The two Scottish lads were the next to be fired. On their last night they told me they had sneaked into the barn and urinated on the crates in retaliation. I’ve never eaten a Cox’s Pippin since.😂 The apples you pick in September are stored and go on sale the following year, just in case you wonder why fresh apples go off so quickly. By the end of September there were only two of us left. It rained on our final morning as we attacked the last remaing trees. The farmer paid us and we retired to the pub for a hearty meal. I’d made just short of £700, but it had rained everyday. We sat by the fire and chatted as we ate. As the sweet arrived the sun broke out across the countryside. 😂

It was time to say goodbye. I had an idea to drive down to Greece and pick oranges, but the winter harvest was in full swing from November to January and offered the highest number of available jobs. What to do until November? I knew something would pop up. After all it always did, didn’t it?

Happy Trails, Folks x

Discover more from Charlierobinsonbooks

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Unknown's avatar

Author: Charlie

They say I’m retired. Huh. I prefer to say I now work for myself. I published a debut novel a couple of years ago and have now published the sequel. For my sins I am a Yorkshireman, albeit well travelled, but back home in God’s own country now. I run, cycle, swim and drink Red Wine. If you want to know anything else just ask.

32 thoughts on “Where It All Began 26”

  2. Apple picking was one of Julia’s first jobs. She used to pick on a farm where the farmer’s wife pushed a tea trolley out to the orchard every morning and afternoon and made them stop for a proper cup of tea. Most of those orchards were grubbed up years ago – another thing we have lost in the countryside.

    That is a lot of tent for £30.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Haha, we had no tea trolley, it was a massive place. They took us to the orchards on a tractor and trailer. But it was good fun. Yes, but it was ancient, and the only one advertised at the time. I don’t think the cheap Argos 2 man thing was a good idea but I wasn’t expecting rain everyday 😂

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply

      1. I once had a two bedroom frame tent. One day I remember us sitting in the kitchen area in camp chairs with the our feet up on boxes as rainwater poured in under the walls.

        Tents are great, but they have their limitations.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. 😂😂 Yeah, they’re much better these days. I have a 2bedroom one now for races that are far away. It’s great, but as you say limited. Freezing if it’s a bit chilly and roasting if it’s warm.

        Liked by 3 people

      7. It’s been a while since I slept in a tent – in those days pubs were for drinking and their catering was a bit like Russian roulette. I can show you at least two pubs in the East Midlands that used to have the atmosphere, warmth and catering skills of a Chapel of Rest. They are still going so I expect they have improved. :-)

        Liked by 1 person

      1. There are palm trees here but no one really harvest and eats dates. No olives. The most popular trees here are Japanese Loquat (they grow wild all over the place), peaches and pecans. But if you asked the average person here what a Japanese Loquat tree was they wouldn’t know. We call them Misbelief trees.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. When I was a kid we had two huge fig trees. My dad would come home from work every night and tell me to go pick him a quart of figs. That’s a LOT of figs! I’d go climb the trees, getting my arms all itchy from those leaves and pick as many as I could. He’d eat maybe six. Then the next night guess what? He’d want fresh figs so he’d tell me do it again! This would go on all summer. God it was a pain in the ass!

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply