Fall was awesome this weekend. The only thing that could have made it better would have been an apple pie and a trip to a pumpkin farm/cider mill.
However, I ate too much brunch at M. Henry with Randy and Andrea yesterday to be interested in baking a pie like I had planned. And as far as the field trip to the pumpkin farm/cider mill goes, I am car-less.
It is one of the only times of the year that I loooonnnng for a vehicle. A GIRL NEEDS HER PUMPKINS. The farms in the burbs of Chicago are ridiculously extravagant; petting zoos and pig races, corn mazes and apple orchards, fresh cider and hot donuts. FRESH CIDER AND HOT DONUTS. Want! My friends from high school, Bill and Lindsay, were just engaged this weekend at one of these cider mills in a very cute way. See, cider=love.
You see, I have these childhood memories of the Apple Barn Festival in rural central Illinois (anyone ever heard of Danvers? no, no you haven’t), and I won’t be completely satisfied with the fall season until I can return to this magical place or a place like it. (Add Hayrides, caramel apples, and music to the mandatory list). My heart aches whenever a new Facebook album is posted featuring a pumpkin patch trip, or a goat eating a funnel cake.
Don’t be scared.
Marjorie is not as wretched as she looks. When I found her a few years ago at World Market, I just had to have her. While laughing maniacally, I stood in line with her under squeezed tightly under my arm. I tried to contain the snickering, but it was like I had the church giggles. They simply could not be supressed. The cashier expertly avoided eye contact with the crazy lady petting the ugly kitty, and soon I was the proud owner of a disgusting piece of styrofoam that was covered in something that can loosely be described as “fur.” A year later, little Lloyd was spotted and purchased to keep her company. Justin hated Marj at first, but has eventually come to accept her as an unavoidable presence that visits us during this time of year. She is the unwanted stepchild of our holiday decor.