Last weekend, our Pastor and his family joined us to go apple picking at Twin Hill Ranch in Sebastopol, California. I hadn’t gone picking apples since I was a kid, so it seemed like a fun idea to take the boys and participate in a quintessential fall activity. Although fall weather hasn’t exactly reached us yet in Northern California, it was still a beautiful day to be outside, spend time with dear friends, and eat some apples. Plus, I’ve always heard that it’s good to teach kids that fruit comes from trees, not the supermarket.
So after an hour long drive into the country, I imagined an all-day affair, with sweat pouring down our faces and aching arms from carrying bushel upon bushel of apples. Instead, we ended up having these tiny little baskets, and it took all but twenty minutes to actually pick the apples. Luckily, there were lots of sticks laying around, so the kids kept themselves busy attacking each other in true apple picking fashion. Oh well. My husband really had his mind stuck on buying an apple pie, but I kept telling him that this was why we went apple picking in the first place — so that I could make a delicious pie from scratch with these juicy, ripe, freshly picked apples. I made him begrudgingly put the pie back, and now there is a bag of juicy, ripe, freshly picked apples laying on the kitchen counter… continuing to do nothing. The kids are still wondering whatever happened to that fresh apple pie, and luckily, my husband hasn’t pulled the “I told you so” on me yet. Oops — my bad.