Apple Picking

Last weekend both my mom and my college roommate and her husband were in town and very nicely agreed to accompany me and the boys on an apple picking outing. We tried an orchard that describes itself as "no-frills" which means no apple cider donuts, hayrides, petting zoos, haunted cornfield mazes or any of the other fall moneymakers that many orchards have cranked out in the past few years to cash in on their version of the holiday shopping season. It also means if you are 8 months pregnant and have to use the bathroom, the farmer tells you to drive down the road to his house, which he leaves unlocked, and use the one next to his kitchen! I grew up in a rural area, so using someone's bathroom in their unlocked house would not have surprised me at all back in my own childhood, but I guess I have been living in Chicago long enough now that I got a kick out of this.

This orchard proved to be just our speed. We pulled up and parked literally 20 feet from the apple trees, paid to pick two bags and cruised straight into the orchard where the boys were delighted that the trees were low enough for both of them to reach up and pick half a bag full each. I was surprised by this myself and hadn't realized before that apple trees have branches growing so close to the ground. The boys seemed to enjoy themselves. AJ said excitedly to Grandma Julie "Grandma, if people want apples, they can just go pick them off the tree!" My little city slicker.

The woman with the ponytail in the photos giving the good demo of the "picker stick" for reaching apples up high is my college roommate, A. And I swear that my mom and I did not try to coordinate clothing for this outing--I guess we think alike.