We have few “we-started-them” family traditions. Family traditions abound on both sides, but there are few we feel are our own. Apple/Pumpkin picking is one. Even that is fairly hazy in that everyone else has done it as well, but we try and do it every year which apparently counts for something somewhere, in some ledger of family tradition, or so I’m told, and leave me alone already etc.
Fruit off a tree is magical. It’s not from a bin in a store. It’s not handled by others. It’s not processed, folded, spindled, or mutilated as the post office is want to say. One second it’s part of tree and the next second it’s a snack, or a pie, or the promise of one. Magic I tell you.