Sunday, October 10, 2010

Apple Picking, Hay Rides & Rockets, Oh My!

PART 1: The Orchard

The orchard owner was very friendly and knowledgeable, and her taste (like ours) runs to Macintosh apples. So when she said you could use Macintosh for all your baking and eating needs, we nodded (and maybe even drooled a bit) in agreement. And when she said you can use dropped apples for just about everything - including apple pies!! - we went for the dropped apples in a big way.

We got a half-peck bag for fresh-picked apples and a half-bushel bag for the dropped apples, and headed toward the Macintosh trees.

My nieces did not want to pick apples up off the ground, thank you very much! (Too much work? Too inglorious? Their view was firmly held, but unexplained.) So they got the small bag. Which actually worked out rather well:

An apple-picker poses in mid-reach:

Quality control was fairly stringent:



But the little bag still filled up quite rapidly with our two intrepid apple-pickers in full swing:

PART 2: The Studio

Afterward, we went to an artist's studio, featuring some lovely ceramic wares:

The glaze on these (and especially with these particular shapes) made me think of antique bronze vessels:

Every nook had some works on display:

The studio space itself was interesting, as it gave the impression of being built into a hill:

Even if, perhaps, the hill may have been built over the structures:

They have a great view from their back yard. I'd be willing to live there!

PART 3: The Farm

For lunch and to round out the day, we went to a farm that was hosting a wool arts fair.

We spoke with a farmer who lost everything earlier this year when his property burned down. He lost all the animals. All the wool. All the goods for sale. His house, and all his possessions. He pointed out though that he and his wife were unharmed. And they used to have the oldest house in town - but will now have the newest. He was not just putting on a positive spin in order to sell his wares; they have no wares to sell yet after the fire. I wish them Godspeed.

Aside from the human interest angle, which is interesting primarily for grownups, one of the most popular parts of any wool arts fair is necessarily the animals:

Ruth was thrilled to see the brown sheep with black faces, her favorite! I am happy to report their wool was soft, and rich with lanolin. Fuzz therapy!

For sheer fluffy softness, however, nothing beats a baby alpaca:

Lee had the opportunity to lead the baby alpaca around on a leash (with guidance from the alpaca's trainer). So sweet!!!

This spotted one was placidly friendly, older but still quite soft:

So we all got a chance to pet him.

Yes, there were even more alpacas around. Did I mention how cool they were?

After the farmers started asking us exactly how many alpacas we were going to buy, we knew we needed to make our getaway. We found a tractor that was pulling away at the time, so we hopped on:

As we made our getaway, we admired the fall foliage:





Oddly, this turned out to be an ineffective escape route, as the tractor circled back to the starting point again.

PART 4: Home Sweet Home

The girls and their friends played a silly sentence game - a bit like mad libs, in game board form:

Lee looked at the new animal poetry book:

But it is difficult to resist the call of the wild. Lee has become adept at catching frogs, such as this one:

The girls flew around on the rings again, showing off impressive arm strength:

After a game of tag (foxes vs. bear), we adjourned to the sandbox for an elaborate meal under Lee's supervision:

The piece de resistance, however, was the rocket launch. The fuel was vinegar and baking soda - materials I'd put together in the past only for a volcano. (How pedestrian, how earth-bound! Why did my imagination not soar? Eh, maybe law is a good match for me after all.)

A young boy, closely supervised by his father, presided over the launch. Everyone gathered for the show. This was the second try after an earlier failure. But this time, it went off successfully!! So of course everyone wanted to do it again!! AGAIN!!! As people gathered additional supplies and the boy's dad repaired the rocket, Lee asked if she could have a go. I said, "You can try it when you're 10." That seemed like a good age to me, and luckily I guessed exactly right - the boy was, in fact, 10 years old! But poor Clara seemed crushed by the age difference - she said to the boy, with a slight note of despair, "Are you seriously 10?"

The tension built as Alex ran into the field with the rocket, shook it and set it down. There was a sickening pause - nothing happened. And then - just when it seemed all was lost - the rocket went up again! Up, up into the air!! HOORAY!!!

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