Glowing red apples hung from my tree scarcely larger than Christmas tree baubles and I kept them hanging there until the first Saturday in September. There were five left. You only need three to exhibit in the show. Class 110, APPLES. Three dessert, one variety, with stalks.
I took the scissors to the tree this time and carefully cut them off retaining the stalks. Judges are particular about provenance and they like to see uniformity of shape, size and colour. My tree looked like it stood a chance. I know also now that the apples this tree bears are small and sweet, but the judge only tastes the cookery exhibits.
There was the usual gap between staging, when you get to the hall, arrange your entries on the green baize of the trestle tables, wonder about and look at the others in various states of optimism and pessimism and the actual opening of the show itself.
Two o'clock, and there we were as usual seated behind the raffle table while fellow exibitors gave us knowing looks.
I had gained that coveted red piece of card. First prize. Not only that, my little tree had also won the RHS certificate for best fruit entry.
I record this not just because I have a competitive streak, I know, but out of gratitude. There is hope for a tree.
