This weekend has been mostly spent dealing with one of those things every parent dreads. I will spare you the details but will say that we are now in possession of a number of fine toothed combs. Oh, and I have a partially completed haircut. Sigh. Still, they did give me half off...
To compensate for the general frustration, we set off this afternoon to do one of our favorite fall activities, apple picking. A local orchard's advertisements mentioned the magic word "Honeycrisp". As this is pretty much the ideal apple as far as I am concerned, we dived off into the country in pursuit.
When we arrived, we were disappointed to discover that, although the Honeycrisps were for sale at the farm stand, there were none ready to be picked. Not to be defeated, we decided to pick some of the other varieties instead and buy some Honeycrisp. As we wandered, however, our eyes were drawn to three trees in a row with some ripe looking apples that were unlike the others around them and suspiciously like the apple we were looking for. A taste test confirmed their identity, so, with a few circus gymnastics to reach the top branches, we loaded up our bag and headed home happy.
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