Holee $hit! Flashbacks from being a kid. Every fall, my pop and my mother would load my middle brother and me in the car and drive down into Luray (in Virginia along the Shenandoah's), headed for the roadside apple stands. She would have us load up as many bushel's of apples as we could fit into the trunk of that '72 Lincoln. If I remember correctly, we could squeeze between 6 and 8 easily into that big ass trunk. Then we'd go home, and the assembly line would begin. After that, I don't think that a meal would go by, throughout the fall/winter/spring, that we didn't have apple sauce and/or apple butter on the table.
That might be one of the reasons why I don't eat the stuff these days.