Check out this post from the Nonfiction blog. It's interactive and everything -- you get to vote! They took us to Robert Frost's farm down the road yesterday, and I filched some apples that had fallen in the orchard. I mean, it's not even a big deal -- even Frost says in his famous poem "After Apple-Picking" that the ones that fall on the ground go "surely to the cider heap / as of no worth."
So I've saved these apples from the cider heap but now I don't know what to do with them. Help!
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