Two little old goats greet one another. I like the angle: I don't look too bad from there.
Who you callin' a donkey?
If there is merchandise for sale, BBBH is there.
Of course we partook of the food and apple goodies.
Sweet!
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Fall Day at the Orchard
Actually set the alarm clock for a 7:30 wake up call. Imagine that. On the road by 9:20 for a forty-mile northward trek. Destination: McClure's Orchard, restaurant, trinket store, punkin patch and general tourist attraction. We were accompanied by a dozen friends and one might safely say that a good time was on the docket.
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7 comments:
Y'all are always out and about doing fun things...
An apple orchard is a great place to spend a fall day. This one has obviously expanded to compete in the market. Hope you got some nice apples for pies and sauce!
Grace, not really "always" but we do get to do some neat stuff.
Vee, unfortunately we found that this particular place has become so touristerized that one can buy apples just as cheaply in the supermarket. Caveat emptor.
I wouldn't go to the orchard for cheap apples. I'd go there just for the odor of freshly picked apples. For me, it's like a little slice of heaven. A glass of cider also helps in the same way.
Looks like you are having fun travels! Mmmmm.....I smell Apple pie!
Don't feel too badly about the high priced apples. The cider mill we go to here imports apples from Ohio. The ones on the few trees they have are for little kids on field trips to pick. But they do make the cider (apparently using Ohio apples).
Chuck, lifestyles have changed. Orchards are now more about entertainment than they are produce. At least in this vicinity. When I was a lad we lived in a fruit producing region. Dad picked apples for cash income. I well recall the fall that he determined to pick a hundred bushels in a day. He hit ninety-some two or three times before finally setting his record at 103. He also told me that when he was a youngster he set for himself the goal to pick more corn in a day than his dad did. Never met that goal-- Grandpa kept putting the ears in the air without seeming to break a sweat and my dad couldn't keep up.
Ilene, fortunately not yet too old to have fun.
Vee, oh, the mill was pumping out lots of cider. The refuse was sent through an eight inch augur directly into a wagon to transport it to the fields. But then again, I can buy cider cheaper at the supermarket.
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