Extra A/N:
Lots of country accented dialogue this chapter.

**Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, Equestria**
**003 Summer CC**
**Bright Macintosh**

I’m glad I didn’t see Grand Pear when I dropped Buttercup’s cart off at her gate. He’s never liked me, and I don’t know why. I’ve done my best to do right by him and my mare.

My mare. I can’t stop smiling when I think that. I hadn’t heard from Buttercup for a whole season and was beginning to think the worst. Then she sent that letter. I couldn’t contain my joy. I grabbed my bits and ran straight to the train station.

And -oh boy!- did she make it up to me. She was so honest about such a hard thing that I think I fell in love with her all over again. She promised honesty forever. Apples hold honesty in the highest regard.

She also promised to propose this week. This was the best trip I’ve ever taken. I thought I would miss doing some chores, but Buttercup made sure I’d be in plenty good shape when I got back and…

… Oh… Now that I think about it, I might’ve forgot to tell Ma where I was going… Or even that I was leaving.

That’s not good.

Maybe I should have volunteered to bring Silly along? That might’ve tempered her wrath some… Can’t believe I’m a dad now -twice technically. That’s a lot to digest in a couple of days.

Buck up, Bright Mac. Take your punishment like an Apple. Your mare’ll lick your wounds for you later tonight -literally if I ask her, too.

There she is bringing a cartload of apples back to the barn.

As I approach, her ears flick, and she briefly looks over at me. Then, she looks back to where she’s going.

That’s not good.

I trot to catch up and meet her in the barn. She already unhitched and started unloading the baskets. I start helping, but she doesn’t say anything.

Silent treatment. That’s some advanced anger right there -the cold kind.

She probably doesn’t want to talk right now, but I should try to broach with an olive branch, “Ma-”

She cuts me off, “-S’chorin’ time.” My mother looks at me sideways as she works, “We’ll talk near dinner.”

“Y- yes, ma’am,” I reply.

She states, “Bring a switch.”

I swallow, “Y- yessum.” Wow, Ma’s straight up mad. I’m a grown stallion, but she’s not wrong. I could have been anywhere; for all she knows, I was nabbed by some timberwolf or some such. She could’ve been worried to tears, and that is my fault. I hope she didn’t call the Guard…

I doubt she’ll actually use the switch after I explain. I expect she’ll cool down after some chores to work out her stress and now that I’m home, safe, and secure.

Ma won’t be able to do that after Buttercup proposes, anyway; our herd will be official and one step from being legally recognized. I’ll be my mare’s responsibility. Somehow, I think I’ll enjoy Buttercup’s punishments if there are to be any.

Nonetheless, I don’t look forward to dinner tonight, but I still say it was worth it. For my mare and my boy, it’s worth it.

As we finish up, I strap myself to the cart, and we head back towards the orchard.

She breaks the silence, “Was it fer a mare?”

I did not expect her to ask so soon and nearly jumped, “Y- yes, Ma. It was.”

She mumbles, “‘Bout time.” Louder, she asks, “Well, where is she?”

Oh. How do I say it without saying it? “Uh~ she’s -um- in town, Ma.” That is technically correct.

She doesn’t look at me but narrows her eyes and keeps them forward, “When do Ah get t’meet’er?”

Sweet Celestia, these are good questions, and I never thought about how to answer them once. “W- well, Ah -uh- that is, she’s um~” As I sputter, I can see her muzzle slowly scrunch.

My mother spits, “Mac, Ah ain’t mad that y’u found yerself a mare. Ah’m mad that Ah made y’u feel like yeh had t’sneak off t’see’er. Ah’m mad that y’u found some mare on the other side of the country, and Ah had no idear. Ah’m mad that even right now y’u can’t tell me!” She sighs, “However Ah look at it, that’s mah fault; mah doin’.” She snorts her frustration as she gets some baskets from the cart and starts setting them around the trees.

The only reason I’m hesitating is because of her crazy feud with Buttercup’s sire. It’s not because I’m embarrassed to be in love, and… wait.

“How’d y’u know where Ah went?” I ask.

My dam, Granny Smith, stopped and stood up straight and proud. She turned, and the light of Celestia’s sun illuminated her; and she shone in all her glory: a mare of the Line of Succession of the Crown of Equestria, a titled noble of the Province of Misakegan, Countess of the township of Ponyville, the Lady of the Apple clan.

She answers with a question, “Who d’y’all think Ah am, boy?” And as briefly as it came, she went back to just being my mother -a regular ol’ pony. As she resumes her work setting baskets, she says, “Guess Ah’ll have t’give y’u the talk if’n y’u want to keep that mare ‘round.”

I say, “Ma, y’u’ve told me all about y’u ‘n’ dad.”

She answers, “Ah ain’t told y’u no particulars ‘bout how. Ah s’ppose y’u’re old enough now since y’u’ll be needin’ t’use it.”

Oh~ horseapples. My sisters have told me stories about the horrors of this particular discussion… Although, none of them ever said the information wasn’t worthwhile.

I blurt out, "Does this mean I don't need the switch?" Ponyfeathers, why did I say that. She might've forgotten.

"Nope," she says. "Y'u skipped out on yer chores fer days, Mac. Ah thought Ah learned y'u that lesson once. Ah'll teach y'u good this time."

She's not wrong... Consarnit. Buttercup'll kiss it and make it better, though.

**Perfect Pear Orchard, Ponyville, Equestria**
**003 Summer CC**
**Silly the Colt**

Whatever those were that made the loud rumbling in the sky whipped by so fast, I couldn’t even see them. I could only see the dust kick up from the road, the homes shake, and trees bend away from wherever those things came from.

Mom picks me up off her back and sets me in the cart, <<“Y’all’s eyes must’ve bugged out a bit from those Wonderbolts. Ah can see some whites around the edges -just a mite.”>> She smiles after saying that, gives my nose a nuzzle, and puts her saddle bags in the back with me. After that, she moves around to the front of the cart and straps herself to it.

She pulls the cart under the ranch gate. Just after, there is a little bridge.

Mom says, <<“This here is the Little Pony River. Y’u can swim in it when y’u’re older.”>>

We cross it, and there is a stream or creek underneath it. Along the banks, there are trees planted. Their roots hug the sides quite snugly. It’s flowing from the east and going to the west towards where I can see the train tracks in the distance, but the water turns south before that and disappears from sight.

She points to the left at a low and gentle hill near the creek. <<“Over there’s where Ah met yer dad. We had some vegetable fields over there, but they look fallow right now. That’s odd.”>> A little ways to the right, farther away towards an old looking forest, there is a cottage. I can’t tell how big it is from this distance, but I can tell we are not heading towards it from the direction we’re going.

She points to the right where the bumpy landscape slowly slopes downwards on a gentle decline, and a great number of trees grow in an orderly fashion, <<“Thataways is the orchard. We’ve got a bunch of different types. Ah’ll be teachin’ y’u ‘bout all of’em. Though, they look like they could use some tendin’.”>> Between here and there are a lot of places that look like they have grown things like wheat or some type of grains

We pass a few pens with little henhouses or hog-houses. I didn’t see any tenants, but -wait- there’s one: a chicken! I like the way chickens walk around bobbing their heads and shaking their tails when they scratch at the ground. She’s a ways off, but I don’t think she’s doing the booty-shake or the head-bob. She’s wearing a sombrero hat of straw or reeds and walking around gently but with a posture of intention; I can’t see her face because of the low brim. It also looks like she has a curved weapon -or a stick- strapped to her side. It’s hard to see details from here.

That’s weird. Mom, are you seeing this? No, she’s looking at other things. Of course.

The road is approaching a few larger buildings. One looks like a house. The others are barns of different purposes. I think the closest one facing the grain fields might be for hay. The one facing west towards those orderly trees might be for them, but I can’t tell from here.

The way mom is looking from one way to another, the way her tail twitches, and the way her ears are moving around but resetting into a laid-back position are making me nervous for some reason. Even her breathing patterns are setting me on edge.

I try to comfort her, “Love. Mom.”

Something seems to wash over her, and those things stop; and I feel better for some reason. That’s weird. She looks back to me while pulling the cart expertly on the road; she doesn’t even have to look where she’s going, <<“Ah love you, too, Silly.”>>

We pull up to the house, mom stops the cart, and sets me on her back, <<“Light’s on. Ah think he’s inside. Makes sense; it’s gettin’ close to dinner time.”>>

**Perfect Pear Orchard, Ponyville, Equestria**
**003 Summer CC**
**Pear Butter**

I take one deep and calming breath before walking up to the porch and knock on the door. I probably don't need to knock, but I don't know what's going on at the farm. I figure it's better to play safer than to be sorry.

Silly and I wait a moment and nothing happens except that he snuggles up to my mane a bit from my withers; so, I knock again.

This time, we hear some hooves approach. My sire opens the door and stands there looking at me like he's trying to tell if he isn’t imagining his daughter before him.

Cautiously, I ask, "Daddy?"

He doesn’t look good. While I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so well-rested, he is also exhausted of a different kind -the malnourished kind. He blinks like he's waking up from a dream, "Butter? Is that you?"

I nod and try to smile, "I'm home."

His own smile appears with tears, and he steps forward to embrace me whispering, "My baby." Daddy's hoof reaches around me for the hug, but there's a little, 'Eep.' My sire freezes for a moment and looks around my bushy mane to see a little green colt amongst the curls. He looks to Silly and back to me with a look of nonfunctioning.

"Uh," I start, "may Ah introduce you to Silvanus?" I try to see how he'll react but he doesn't seem to, "Pear. Ah call'im, 'Silly.'"

Silly chimes in when he hears his name, "Silly. Thank you."

Daddy looks to Silly and then back to me, "Did you say, 'Pear?'"

"Yessir," I answer; but before he can respond again, I point to the house and ask, "Can we come in?"

"What," he looks back, "Oh! Of course, it's your house, too." I hold the door for him as he enters, and I follow. We wipe our hooves at the entryway and make our way to the family room. There are a few sofas for everypony to sit and relax together and a fireplace for late night or cold night cuddles. Although, that was back when my mom and dam were here or when family comes to visit for reunions.

The room adjacent is the kitchen which shares the fireplace. There's a screen we can place on one side or the other to focus the heat to the kitchen for cooking or to the family room for warm cuddles. The dining room is further toward the back connecting the kitchen and the family room.

Given the condition of the farm, I half expected the house to be in as poor condition. There is still work to do, but he seems to have kept the house mostly functioning.

Daddy sits on a sofa; he looks thin and worn. I take a place next to him. Silly slides off and starts bouncing around exploring. After watching the colt bounding from one spot to another, he looks at me and waits.

I just blurt it out, "Ah adopted him."

My sire raises an eyebrow and repeats, "Adopted."

I nod, "Yessir. He was livin' on the streets there in Baltimare. Ah got his name from the Harmony Shrine out there." He nods and looks at the colt again, thinking; but I interrupt his thoughts, “Daddy?”

“Hm?”

I say, “Y’all sit right here. Let me get somethin’ fer y’u and Silly to eat.” And I get up and ask as I goes to the kitchen, “What’re yer stores lookin’ like?”

Daddy answers, “Ah’m not sure what’s there. There ain’t much.”

“And why’s that?” I ask. As long as there is something, I can get him something hot.

He shrugs, “If’n Ah don’t sell it, then Ah don’t get bits from it. You know how business works.”

I roll my eyes, “Ah understand the machinations of economics, Daddy, but Ah also know how ‘work’ works.” There's some dry oats. That's good. Dried pears and a couple fresh ones. Is there any syrup or butter? “If y’u don’t eat, y’u can’t work.”

I don't see him shrug from the kitchen, but I know he does; I can hear him whisper something about bills.

As I get some water boiling and peeling the pears, I reassure him, “Don’t y’u worry none, though. Ah got some good work while Ah was out t’ Baltimare way and squirreled some bits.”

He perks up a bit, “What kind of work?”

I reply, “Yer cousin, Pear Bristle, over at that there distribution company. Ah got a real good position fer some -uh- specialty work, and he paid well fer it.” Please don't ask me what kind of work it was. That'll lead to Apple Butter and to my stallion. Daddy's definitely not ready for that conversation right now.

He nods, “He’s a good guy, that Bristle. Haven’t seen’im in years.”

I call back, “Yes, he is and says, ‘Hi.’” I start to slice and core the peeled pears. “So, don’t y’u worry none, Daddy. Ah’m back, and we’ll get this place a-hummin’ in no time. Plus, we can always drum up sales in town if’n we bring Silly along.”

I look in on him and Silly to see a small smile grows on my sire's face, “Yeah. Yeah! Okay. Yeah, we can. We’ll get this place back and… hummin’? That a thing they say out to Baltimare?”

“Ah… Ah don’t rightly know." Where did I hear that? Was it Open Mic? "Ah think Ah heard it out there. Anyways, Ah think if Ah get started on the early fruiters we planted a few years back, it should yield some short term.” I put the pears in a sauce pot to soften, “In the meantime, Ah want you to take it easy.”

“What?” He's a little offended. If he were at his best, I would agree with him.

Calmy, I explain, “Daddy, Ah can see yer ribs.”

My sire looks at himself but still objects, “You can’t just expect me to just laze around.”

I tell him the truth, “Ah ain’t. Ah promise that. Y’u’ll be takin’ the easier chores while y’u build yer strength back up." It's going to take the both of us at our best to get this big farm bustling again, but I try to give my sire some more motivation, "Mares like stallions with a little paddin’ on’em. You know? And y’u can watch Silly while y’u do it. It’ll be good fer him, it’ll be good fer you, and it’ll let me focus on the orchard.”

He's still hesitant, “… Ah don’t know about other mares, Butter.”

“Daddy," I admit, "Ah don’t know what mom ‘n’ dam are doin’. Ah don’t know if they’re comin’ back or what; but y’u’re a stallion, and y’u need more’n jus’ me ‘round. And y’u’ve been by yerself fer Celestia knows how long which is too long.”

He sighs, “… Ah miss’em, baby.” I pour hot water into two bowls of dry oats and scoop some pears into them. I make a separate bowl of just soft pears and add some sugar and seasonings.

I sigh, too, “Ah do, too, and Ah never said y’u didn’t; but Ah want y’u to promise me, Daddy: y’u’ll take it easy. One week. Trimmin’, repairs, sellin’ out in town, gettin’ yer strength back up… and keepin’ Silly out of trouble while Ah take on the mare’s share. Okay?”

My sire swallows but reluctantly agrees, “Okay, baby. Ah promise.”

I set the three bowls on the table and say, "Dinner's on. Y'u were right: there wasn't much. But it's hot and will stave off hunger 'till morning." I go into the living room to see my sire looking at Silly -probably trying to figure out how to catch the little guy.

As he jumps by me, I put a hoof under him and help him jump up high. He squeals with delight -only a pegasus- and catch him on my head. I blow his tail away from one of my eyes and navigate us to the table.

I tell my sire as he joins us, “He’s got a couple o’ books he likes lookin’ at; so, y’u can set him down somewhere to look at it while y’u do some chorin’. Y’u could also go to that library and read to ‘im. He’s already met a few fillies in town, so y’u should get more attention if he’s with y’u at the stall.”

He nods but answers with a tiny bit of his younger competitive nature-pony spirit, “My paternal instincts are a little rusty, but Ah still got’em.”

As Silly starts on the pears, I warn my sire, “Be real careful about what snacks y’u give’im, too. Turns out he’s real susceptible to apples.”

“Apples?" Daddy blows his lips, "Why would Ah give ‘im any of that slop?”

I placate, “Ah didn’t say y’u would, but y’u gotta keep an eye on ‘im.”

Daddy asks, “What about pears?”

I look at Silly who’s been munching on those mushed pears for a bit, “Eyes aren’t dilated. Ah guess pears are good.”

He claps the table with a hoof, “Ha! ‘Course they’re good. Ain’t that right, Silly? Harmony gave us a real Pear. Didn't she?”

With his mouth full, the colt says, “Silly.” I don't think I need to ask Daddy to wash Silly with all that mush on his muzzle.

After some more eating, my sire looks to Silly and then to me, “You did real good, Butter." And after a moment, he admits, "Y'u know, Ah think Ah did need that meal. Ah'm feelin' better already."

Holding the lump in my throat, I return the praise, “Y’u did, too, Daddy. Place is still standin’. We’ll get it a-goin’ real good." I collect our empty bowls, "Now, Ah’m gonna get out into those trees and start chorin’ while there’s some daylight left. If Ah’m out late, don’t stay up. Okay? Go ahead and put Silly down fer bed and rest yerself. Y’hear? The big, strong mare of the house is back.”

Daddy looks at my with a smirk, “Big-?”

"Oh, not another word about mah height!" My stallion loves that I'm smaller. "Ah’m on the clock now, Daddy.” I give both Daddy and Silly a kiss before heading out. After I assess the work I need to do and the sun starts to se, I'll skip over to meet Bright Mac on our hill.

**Perfect Pear Orchards, Ponyville, Equestria**
**003 Summer CC**
**Silly the Colt**

After mom left, the older fellow brought moms bags in and fetched my book out of one of them. I said, "Book. Thank you." He seemed pleased at that.

<<"Alright,">> he said, <<"Ah'm going to get some foal things out from storage. Can I trust y'all to stay here?>> I don't know what any of that means; so, I just open the book, and that also seems to be good to him.

I open to the section about geography and find something about Ponyville. Kevin wrote about some names: Sugarcube Corner, Sweet Apple Acres, Carousel Boutique, and a few others. I think I was at that first one today. That's so cool... but it's also not. I need to spend some time thinking about how I'm supposed to thread this needle.

Nope. No matter how I look at it, I'm just not in a position where I can make those types of decisions on my own right now. I just have to do my best not to buck everything up.

The Everfree is nightmare fuel. Beware.

I think I believe that now after those things from earlier: the sounds from the forest, the way everypony in town behaved, and those thunders racing through the sky. This is good advice.

He also wrote about some ponies but not much. I think I might have met one or two, but he didn't put any of their descriptions in the text.

It's not long before I start getting sleepy, though; and that stallion brings me to a bed. It smells like mom, and that's about all I needed. I do feel his nose nuzzle my neck, though.

Quietly he says something, <<“Ah’ve met pegasus stallions and colts before, but Ah’ve more experience with the mares. ‘Tweren’t very good experience. They don’t have any natural magicks, but Ah know pegasi can work just like any other pony. Don’t y'u worry about that none; yer mom and Ah’ll help y'u learn… It’s -uh- it’s good to have y'u, Silly.”>> He picks his head up and pulls a blanket over my shoulders, <<“Welcome to the Pear family, Silly Pear.”>>

Author's Note

Silly ol' Pear... Oh, bother.

I don't know what, "Consarnit," means, but Applejack has used it before in one of the comics.

The chicken was originally going to have a conical asian straw hat, but then I thought that the bird’s comb would not be so comfortable in that design. Sombreros are similarly constructed but have a little more space up top for something like a chicken's comb. So, the chicken is dressed like… a Mexican samurai. I haven't decided on a name yet. I was thinking maybe just, "Señorita Gallo" (Miss Rooster).

I have most of the chapters for the 13th (16.5) and 20th (16.6) finished ahead of time. (Hooray!) I think the latter is pretty funny. I have some notes for the chapter on the 27th (16.7), but I haven't written any of it yet. The week of the 25th may be tricky given work and holiday activities. So, should I save the chapter of Dec.20th (16.6) and post it on the 27th or do my best and see if I can get a fresh one (16.7) out on the 27th?