We went apple picking today. Since it was pouring when we woke up, I was a little unsure if we would have nice weather, but it cleared up beautifully. After an early lunch, we left and drove two states away. (It sounds worse than it is.) We only picked two bushels this year. After my compulsive summer of canning literally gallons of various food items, I'm not sure how much steam I have left to deal with turning bushels of apples into apple sauce. Plus, we already had some apples from my brother, so I already have dehydrated apples and pectin for next year's canning.
We arrive and walk around tasting apples to see what we want (I don't know why we bother, we always end up choosing Jonathans), and set to work picking apples. I picked about 8 apples when one of the little girls announced she needed to go to the bathroom. So, I set down the bag and took the little girl down the road to the port-a-potties. By the time returned, all four bags had been filled. (It really doesn't take too long to pick 2 bushels of apples.) We also picked a few concord grapes for the older child who like to freeze them and eat them straight out of the freezer.
D. with P. and a H-S boy (We met the H-S family at the orchard, the P. family couldn't make it.)
K. is wearing a picnic blanket because my children are still under the impression that it is high summer and dress accordingly. I was a little chilly when we got there.
L. (I love this picture.)
And now we're back home. Not everyone can say they drove two hours to pick 8 apples, can they? Tomorrow P. and I have a date to go visit the animal shelter in downtown Chicago. She's excited, I'm a little wary. I'll let you know how this all turns out.
And here's an article that was published a while back that I completely missed. Passing for Normal (When You're a Mother of 10)