Outings with the Muenzezezeseszezeszesz
Over Columbus Day weekend, the Muenzesezsez went apple picking. We scuttled to a nearby farm with eager, apple-prized anticipation. We parked in the wrong parking lot and instead of walking a little ways down a dirt road, Richie decided to nip back to the car and drive it to a closer parking lot while Kathy and I walked, despite each of our leg ailments. Apparently the apples would be too heavy to carry all the way back. Once Richie whizzed past us and parked, he stood casually leaning against the car in his just too short khakis, as per usual Richie fashion. He waved to us from afar, mouth agape, as if he was just seeing us for the first time in months, again per usual Richie fashion. The three of us, finally united, purchased a special apple picking plastic bag and an apple picking stick that we “for sure should get.” As we wandered into the decaying apple orchard, we noticed there were no apples actually in the trees. There were plenty piled on the ground beneath the trees slowly melting into the earth, but none actually growing on the trees. We searched up and down the rows for about fifteen minutes until Richie “had enough of this” and started collecting apples from the ground. He seemed particularly impressed by the condition of the apples he had come across and megaphone mouthed, “Come on gang! It’s not a total loss!” After Kathy and I finished squatting to contain the pee that was ready to flow out after Richie’s inspiring proclamation, the three of us waded through rotten apples and fought off swarming flies to pick the perfect apples from this season’s lot. We almost felt like we were in the wilderness. Occasionally we found an apple in the tree. Of course it was either rotten or deformed, but nonetheless, it was there. Richie even tried scooping up a water bottle that someone left between two branches and pretending it was an apple. It didn’t make it into the precious picked apple bag. He also started using the apple picker as a lacrosse stick, but he’s not particularly skilled at lacrosse so he really just shoved apples across the orchard. As other families passed by, we all bonded over the no-apple situation, and time after time Richie would make the same joke about the farm renting out kneepads instead of an apple picking stick. Though we cut our apple gathering shorter than we anticipated, we were MORE than thrilled with the results. While Kathy was waiting on line to pay for our lovely apples, she started having chest pains as if she was going to have a heart attack. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the thrill-packed conclusion we were hoping for. She popped a baby aspirin and we were on our way. Maybe next year it’ll happen on a hayride or something.
Below are some shots from the trip:
Richie deserts his apple picking stick and begins his hunt
Kathy’s not really sure what to do
Richie tries his hand at lacrosse
One of the gems we added to the bag
Taken at two angles to embellish it’s impeccable quality