The Briar Philosopher - Butter Up

Apple Butter that is. It’s that time of year and I couldn’t be happier about it. Though making apple butter takes a lot of peeling and slicing and stirring, it’s worth it. Of course I make mine in a crock pot set on low because I don’t have five kids to take turns stirring like my momma did. 

I love everything about it. I love the way the house smells. I especially love that our first batch came from the apples from our own little orchard and that there will be more to follow. There is a sense of comfort that comes from the food one produces one’s self that I just don’t get from grocery shopping. I love the way it thickens to a fine spread that is wonderful on a hot biscuit or, my favorite, lightly grilled 12-grain bread. It was my favorite of all the jams and jellies and butters my momma made when I was a kid and still is, though wild grape jam runs a close second.

As I was stirring the first batch of the year a couple of days ago I took note of the small pieces of apple that won’t cook down no matter how long you cook or how hard you stir. You can even take a potato masher to them and they still won’t give up their appleness to become butter. 

I know some people will put the whole lot in a blender and blend until everything is smooth, but I don’t. There were always small bits of apple in mommy’s butter and, to me, it was a delight to bite into one of them and get that little taste of pure apple. They tasted like a bit of summer on those cold mountain mornings. 

As I contemplated the stubborn apple bits it struck me that there is probably another reason I love them. There is something about their stubbornness that appeals to me. Y’all might have figured out by now that I have a bit of a stubborn streak myself. I have often refused to go along with the crowd, refused to give up the center of who I am in order to melt into the surrounding societal butter. There are those who would say that I’m a hindrance to achieving the smoothness they wish to achieve. They wish I wouldn’t question things so much, think about things so much that I call into question their own worldview. Of course it’s not their world view I’m concerned about. It’s my own. I would be lying if I said I never annoyed myself though. There are days when I chide myself for always questioning, always seeking to come as close to the truth as possible. But that doesn’t last very long. It’s just the way my mind works and always has been. I need to know that the world view on which I base my operating assumptions is as close to reality as possible. But there are those who have considered my self questioning to be aimed at them and who have felt chastised just because, upon close examination, the answers I find are at odds with theirs. That’s ok. I’ve never asked anyone else to walk my path. We all have our own paths to walk and our own ways to get where we’re going.  The fact that I may disagree with you in no way means that I am judging you. That’s not my place. I have enough trouble seeing to those pesky beams in my own eye without worrying about the motes in someone elses. 

But back to the apple bits. As I stood there stirring and contemplating those bits that won’t break down, I thought of all the people I know who also don’t melt down, no matter the heat of the surrounding society. They are people who make their own way and tell their own story, people for whom social norms are just a suggestion, people who won’t comply just for the sake of going along to get along. We all know them. Some of them are just plain jerks about it and feel the need to point out their insistence on themselves in a way that just feels like an insult. Then there are those who, like the bits of apple, add something to our days. They are a taste of something different and delightful in the midst of so much sameness. They brighten our days and make us think. They seem to see the bits of us that others miss and make us feel more visible in ways we had not felt before. The very sharpness of the contrast they present wakes up our minds a bit from the doldrums of routine and gives us a glimpse of another way to be. Though we may not want to change ourselves or our perspectives as a result, we are glad they exist and something about them makes us smile. 

So, here’s to the butter and here’s to the bits. May they both feed out bodies and our minds. And may we all come to appreciate those who don’t quite melt into the smooth fabric of society, no matter how much heat they’re handed.