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An acorn in a mossyfringed cup — all the size of a golf ball — lies on my desk on this cold, bright November morning.
For years I have wanted to see the oak that produces an acorn this size. It was given to me by good friend, Betty Herbert, of Delaplane. Lee and I were at the beautiful home, Northwood, she shares with her husband, Jim, two days ago to pick crabapples, from which I have already made jelly both with and without a dollop of sherry. I hope visitors to the Farmer’s Market at the Archwood Green bams at The Plains this weekend find the jelly as delicious as I do.
We were in the car and ready to leave when Betty said, “I have an acorn to show you. It’s the biggest one I have ever seen. Maybe you can tell me what oak it came from.”
“It’s probably from a chestnut oak; they have big acorns,” I said as I followed Betty inside.
I was wrong. The four or five acorns in the bowl on the kitchen table were huge. A gray cap with a threadlike fringe covered more than half of each acorn, which was as large as the crabapples I had
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