I always look forward to apple picking. It would be cool if we had an orchard closer so we could pick less all at once and go more often. Like when I was a kid and our cottage was next door to an orchard and you could just hop the fence to get whatever you wanted. That would be awesome but, alas, is not the case. So we just stuffed our bags.
This year we went to Baugher’s and I think we liked it better than the place we usually hit. They drive you out to the orchard on a tractor instead of letting you drive right to the field like you do at Larriland and that adds a little something to the experience. You do have to pay a dollar for the tractor ride though and that’s cash only (though you can pay for your apples by credit card). Also, they have full sized trees which Larriland doesn’t have. It was fun, there were way fewer people picking apples than pumpkins so it didn’t feel crowded and the girls had a great time.
Enough about the boring stuff. Actually, I wasn’t going to write about our unremarkable apple picking excursion at all. Who cares that we picked 50lbs of apples? Except for this. I woke up in the morning and put on a tank top but it was kind of chilly so I dug out my favorite black cardi. I was going to wear practical, comfortable running shoes but thought my outfit was kind of cute so I wore my black patent leather flats instead. I’m an adult! I can handle it! When we got out to the field the old tractor driver guy offered me his hand to help me out of the wagon. So friendly and chivalrous! And then it occurred to me some time later that he probably thought I was totally ridiculous. Also, the guy who offered to take my bag down off the wagon on the return trip? I realize now that he probably didn’t want to carry my diaper bag too. Too late now. But look, I wore the wrong shoes and survived. I didn’t even slip on a rotten apple or pull a Rene Zellweger and twist my ankle on a whole one. You can have it all!