The other morning, our play group went apple picking. Annie thought she'd died and gone to heaven--real apples from a TREE just like her book at PRESCHOOL?!
We aim to please, folks.
We carpooled up, close-ish to the camping site from last weekend, parked on the side of the road, and filled up our bags for $5 a pop.
Having grown up in Tucson, I never experienced things like this fall harvest time gloriousness (although I seem to remember a certain little brother or brother's friend who "harvested" one of my parents' citrus trees a few weeks too early one year). It's like magic to be able to pick them right off the tree. Not to mention, I spend over a dollar an apple at the grocery store right now and we eat a lot of apples. I should have had my picker pick more bags.
Apple picking in South Carolina, check! (You can tell I wrote this post 5 minutes after the previous one. One-track mind with the "check" thing, sorry about that.) I bought dried apples at the stand as well, yum. Thank you Bryson's.
Our "little dude" (newest nickname, better than the previous "darling" or "dolly" for obvious reasons) doesn't like his car seat much, and cried-before-sleeping both up and back. Silly kid still won't take a binky. Still, would that we could all look so cute in a blue one-piece jumpsuit (Seth's originally, right Tina?).