It is quite true that I have lived in New York state for most of my life and have never gone apple picking. I mean, I have tried to climb apple trees and pick off the little tiny crab apples, but not big ole edible, pie making kinds of apples.
Last year was the first year I actually went apple picking, you know...at a farm.
Its was blast. We went again this year:


The place that we go to is this orchard that totally becomes some kind of apple-y amusement park with a cafe and a barn full of wasps and treats and dreams.
...And wooden boards with apples and pumpkins and buses painted on them. We sometimes have a sick kind of humor. Hopefully no children were watching us.


I look impossibly short next to her, it was totally the angle. But a giant I am not. You can hardly tell she is pregnant, and she wondered alot whether people eyeing her thought she had a 'soup belly'. I forget her exact, brilliant words. Perhaps it was beer belly.


Such a great day this was....soooo perfect.
We totally drank enough cider and ate enough warm cider donuts to kill a yak. Or a small kitten.
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