This morning I was reminiscing about the years we lived in the Twin Cities metro area, and some of our traditions that developed during those years there. Particularly in the fall. Every fall I would take the girls out to an apple orchard called Minnesota Harvest. We would spend an entire Sunday afternoon there.
We would go into the main building and check to see what kinds of apples were being picked, and we would sample a few kinds to decide which ones we wanted to pick. There were long tables set up with bins of apples to sample and paring knives for cutting the fruit. Live polka music created a timeless atmosphere. After we decided on the apples we wanted to pick, we would get our baskets and wait in line for the wagons to drive us out to the orchard. We would get off at the trees we chose to pick from, and fill our baskets. The fashionista was pretty little at the time, and she usually ate more than she picked. When our baskets were full, we heaved them onto the next wagon that came by and went back to the main area.
There was a petting zoo that the little fashionista loved. The girls would carefully choose their fall pumpkins. We would have apple pie or apple strudel topped with cinnamon ice cream and listen to more polka music. We always went home with lots of apples, apple bread, apple pie, caramel dipping sauce, pumpkins, and apple cider.
One year eldest daughter took a helicopter ride while we were there, and the girls rode the spinning apple ride.
And then the drive back home, full, tired, reliving the fun in our heads, and looking at the bright fall colors of the trees. Ah, those were some good times.
And then we chopped and peeled apples and they both helped me make homemade applesauce, one of their favorites.
Fall in Minnesota was one of my favorite times.