in which I go apple picking and it was no good

You know we love to go apple picking, right?
Okay, maybe we don't love love it, but we have fun doing it.
And then we lament the long drive, and the overabundance of apples, and all the apple crap I make for, like weeks on end, right?
Well, this year's apple picking was to have coincided with camping. Do I even need to link to the camping post from last weekend. Cause I'm not sure I can even look at it.
Needless to say, without hip waders, there was no apple picking to be done. And even with hip waders there probably wouldn't have been any luscious warm apple cidery good donuts.
Did you know that I am, and have been since last weekend, driving a brand new volvo XC90 with a V8 engine and a very sexy wooden steering wheel, which I could just lick all day I love it so? I am. I am driving it because the SEM system and harness of my still-sexy-even-without-the-V8-or-wood-steering-wheel volvo XC 90 became so waterlogged while camping that my brand new car died and they gave me a loaner.
I thought it would be a good opportunity to check out apple picking closer to home. Our favorite farm is about 2 hours north of us and while we don't mind when we do it, we complain about it afterwards.
I did some research. I found a farm about 45 minutes north of us.
Oldest stayed home this weekend, Middle played during a football game, and K was working. So I set off with Youngest, who was looking very chic in his beanie and first pair of hand-me-down doc martens, and my mother, who, as you know, is good for company as well as a laugh.
Off we went! North! oops, onto the wrong highway for a bit...but then! after a turnaround, back in the right direction.
And we arrive. At a veritable disneyland of farmstands. Crowded and loud. There were vendors selling: nachos, pizza, hot dogs, strombolis, chinese food, pumpkin cheesecake* (which the vedor boasted had been frozen for six weeks!) and...wait for it....
those effin huge smoked turkey legs.
We aren't used to this kind of, um, thing.
Where we pick apples, it was a big big deal last year when they added homemade ice cream. Those big turkey legs freak me out.
We did manage to inhale a couple of funnel cakes, which were warm and sugary and good.
But we never even tried the salsa or chinese food. And the line for donuts was out of the building. By the time we realized we had to drive down the road and across the street to pick the apples, we could barely get out of the parking lot. It was like a 15 puzzle, which, by the way, I am very good at.
We moved the car and bought apple picking bags from the teenagers with attitude sitting in front of the abandoned trailer. For an absurd amount of money. They gave us directions to the orchard. up the hill make a left and go past the barn, there are macintoshes on the right and cortlands on the left.
Up the hill we trudge, with our game faces, determined to fill the bags until they overflow with apple wonderfulness.
Wait? Up three hills? What barn? Wait. Only two kinds of apples? good thing I like both kinds. up another hill? how is Youngest supposed to reach those? how am I supposed to reach those?
Happily, Youngest has fashioned a stick for pulling apples from high limbs.
I consider helping him climb a tree as he could easily fill our bags but then realize that the trees are all covered with poison ivy.
Youngest craps out.
His boots have given him a blister.
Mom? fills her bag from the ground. Also, she is taller than I am.
Both done, I send them back down the mountains.
And I push forward, and higher, and find a tree with lots of red apples where I can reach them. Right near the abandoned truck with the smashed windshield and no tires.
My bags full, I start on the long walk to the car.
When one of my bags rips apart. Sending my hard earned apples rolling in the mud.
Fortunately, I was wearing a camisole. You know - as UNDERWEAR. Over it I was wearing a sturdy black heavy ribbed sweater, which I fashioned into an apple carrier, thereby rendering me worthy of photographs on the fugly site. I endured considerable physical duress returning to my loaned vehicle.
And I am pissed as hell to say that the apples don't even taste that good.

We went to a different stand for cider and donuts to bring home. Home to the smart people who were otherwise engaged. I don't even have the energy to blog about the foppish farmer who took our money for the cider... he was, perhaps, the only bejeweled, french cuffed, well coiffed apple farmer in all of Tuvalu.

And so. Let this be a lesson to you all.
Pick apples at a good place.

*in my world, pumpkin and cheesecake do not mix. but I will tell you that the pumpkin muffins presently featured at starbucks are very good indeed.


kath red said…
sorry to use the comments section to answer your question but here it is:
to put images next to each other - go into the post and edit it - then you can cut and paste, resize, move images next to each other etc from within the edit post area.
Anonymous said…
Pumpkin cheesecake is actually very tastey. My MIL served it at Thanksgiving last year to my surprise.
Anonymous said…
Quit talking about donuts. And funnel cakes. God.
Joke said…
Have I mentioned that Thanksgiving is my #1, bar-none, mostest favoritest holiday? I have no idea what this has to do with your entry or anything else for that matter, so there you go.

Stream of consciously,

blackbird said…
okay Joke.

Anonymous said…
Good thing my little glass of Shiraz was empty when I got to this post or I'd be wiping it off my computer screen right now.
I'm trying to picture someone snacking on a turkey leg while picking apples.
I'm also quite good at 15 puzzles, though I didn't know what they were called. (Another weird thing in common.) A veritable fountain of information, that's what you are!
Anonymous said…
What? You don't like the Disneyfication of apple picking? Let me first say that you waited too long, missy, as my mother would say. When I went apple BUYING, the hearty industrious yuppies that were PICKING their apples only had to reach up over their heads as the trees were laden.
Secondly, what is with the apple PICKING? I have no desire to pick the damn apple when I can buy them in cute little baskets in the cute little orchard shop where they have ten kinds. After all, I love ribs but I'm not going to slaughter the pig first.

But I digress, I wrote to agree with Angie that pumpkin cheesecake is divine and hey, how can you complain about a place that has donuts AND funnel cakes?

Loretta the carb lover (much to her detriment).

Badger said…
Um. Dude? I. Don't. Geddit. Is apple-picking a yankee thing? Down here they have people who will do that for you. And then you need only hop down to the grocery store and buy any combination of the two dozen different varieties on offer (Fuji for me, thanks). They even sell cider. And there's a Krispy Kreme right up the road for hot, fresh donuts.

On the subject of pumpkins, Jack In The Box has pumpkin pie milkshakes right now. They are AWESOME.

I see no reason to leave the suburbs, like, ever.
halloweenlover said…
Badger is going to love this. Guess what is on my resume in the interests section? Apple picking. And let me tell you, it is a conversation starter. EVERYONE asks me about it, and then enthusiastically waxes on about how they love apple picking.

Apple pickers unite!