it's rambly, but maybe you can use it as a sleep aid

Apple Hill: About week-and-a-half ago, we made the trek to Apple Hill with our dearly beloved friends, Auntie C and Uncle A. This was shortly after we learned that we had our first cases of strep throat (part of what led to Cardo’s heart problems).

A couple of days before we went on this outing, Cardo, Pic and I went to one of the (many) local parks to feed our going-stale bread to a group of ducks, geese and a swan. When we were finished playing at the park, we realized Cardo’s car wouldn’t start. We once again called on the help of Auntie C and Uncle A and this is when Uncle A told us he had strep also. He said he thought it was from Pic’s besitos (C and A had watched Pic over the weekend while I was at the hospital with Cardo). By the time we went to “pick” apples, though, we all felt markedly better.

So, anyhow, on that Saturday morning, C and A picked us up and we ate breakfast at Mimi’s and then headed over to California. The Hill (as it hereafter, in this post, shall be known) was crowded, somewhat mobbed actually. The last time we went, it was summer and there was barely anyone there. This time, there were enough people there to make me somewhat ill at ease. I’m seriously grateful that I did not have to drive at all that day.

We chose some already-picked apples at the first farm we visited. I think we each had one of that lot and Pic ended up eating three more that day (we really have no self-control when it comes to fruits). At one of our stops, Pic rode an entirely too expensive mechanical dinosaur ride. (I just thought I’d make it clear it wasn’t a real dinosaur.) She got to take home a dinosaur toy that was supposed to make sound, but didn’t.










We ended up not picking any apples from any apple trees (hence my use of “pick” above). Apparently we need to go in September next year. We stopped at a few more farms, though, taking it all in. At one farm, there was a clown wandering around (oh joy of joys). I very much avoided him. Cardo joked with me about the clown. At the next farm, though, it was his turn to avoid a fear – there was a stall that sold emu oil (I didn’t even ask) and the man had his pet emu there. (By the way, it’s pronounced “e-mew.”) Freaked Cardo out. Pic, Auntie C, Uncle A and I, however, went over to check Winston the (female) emu out.

At some point along the way, we came across a small pen with very, very well-fed animals. There were little cups of feed and Pic got to serve up some pellety stuff to sheep, goats and alpacas. (There were also pigs and donkeys, but they weren't allowed to have the feed. They were eating plenty of whatever it is they eat, though.) After we were finished here, Pic complained, "Now my hand smells like animal food!" Yep.









At our last stop, we stood in the “express” pie line for something like forty minutes and bought a few different kinds of apple pies. Auntie C and Uncle A bought a caramel-apple pie and a traditional one. As I’ve mentioned before, we bought a whole wheat and honey apple pie and a pecan-crunch apple pie. (The former is still in the freezer and the latter is still only partially eaten. It’s good, but Cardo’s not so into sweets and I always (sometimes) wait for him to have some pie. Actually, that pie is probably sprouting some fuzz right now.)

It was a long day, but it was fun. It was nice to get out and get away from our woes here. Cardo was a bit tired, but seemed to feel well overall. Next year, though, we are going back in September and buying a freaking bushel of apples.

[I’m sorry this ended up sounding like, First we did this and then we did that and then we did that…blah, blah, blah. I should have written about it sooner. Also, I shouldn’t have written about it when I was so freaking exhuasted.]

Um, hello? Where are all of your apples?