Alex surprised us with an apple picking outing this week, for which I was thoroughly thrilled. I hoped to mosey over to the orchards a month ago, but October was a little nutty for us. We drove up to Oak Glen on Monday, but to our dumbfoundedness, most of the apple orchards were closed. We found one that was open, and when we asked them if we could pick some apples, they stared at us, stating matter-of-factly that apple picking season is over. We looked more closely at the trees, and the truth sank in: all the remaining apples had fallen onto the ground, dotting the dirt with a sea of red, rotting fruit. We were a bit bummed, but aimed to make the most of the apple picking misadventure.
Doing so was a breeze, as the 60 degree weather there (as opposed to 75 degree weather back home) convinced us fall had actually arrived.The trees billowed in vibrant reds, oranges, and greens: colors of the season that are nonexistent in our parts. Serene had such a blast snatching fallen, rotting apples and toddling about the leaf-blanketed ground. Ever since she turned 13 months at the beginning of November, she's been itching to walk. She'll take up to five steps before she falls, so she's not fully walking independently yet, but we have a feeling that day will come soon. We also visited a colonial museum we went to
two years ago during our first year as a married couple. We partook in 18th century fare at their tavern while staring out of the windows at the Patriots preparing for battle against the Red Coats while the womenfolk made candlesticks. We loved our time there just as much as we did the first time. After all, I am a sucker for a nearly real-life colonial village (particularly because colonial era Felicity was my favorite historical American Girl growing up!), family days, and freshly pressed apple cider - all of which more than compensated for the bygone apple picking season.
