Saturday, October 8, 2011

Apple picking

From the time I was eleven, I lived in southwestern MI. (I'd show you where on my hand but you probably can't see me from where you are).
One of my best friends lived on an apple farm and our idea of apple picking was grabbing one out of the big wooden bins on our way to the car. 'Those Chicago people' were the ones who paid money to go pick their own apples. Tourists. 
And now, I'm one of them. I'm one of those Chicago people who drives an hour and pays money to pick my own apples. And guess what? It was fun. Of course, there was more to it than just picking apples. There was a train and animals and cider and a hayride and a straw maze and donuts! And by the time we actually got to part where we picked apples, we were so tired and sweaty that it was not the funnest (yep. I said funnest) part of our day. 
We left early and rode with our friends Scott, Barb and Noah. The boys are becoming great friends and they love hanging out together.

The pig's houses were made to look like the Three Little Pigs.

The three of them stayed in the maze for at least 20 minutes. We had to drag them out of there.

Daniel L.O.V.E.S. Noah.

If these three ever get their hands on a car, we're all in big trouble.

Bad time for my camera to accidentally switch to manual focus. 

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