In the spirit of trying to create seasonal traditions for our family that are fun, yet tolerable to the grown-ups on an annual basis for the next sixteen years, we loaded up the SUV and headed to the mountains for some apple picking. It was a last minute plan, but, somehow, we got out the door by 9:30 a.m. Oh yeah, it’s because the baby got us up before dawn. That helps.
It turns out, it was the last day of apple picking for the entire season, in the entire region (I’m still wondering how they all decide, before the season even starts, what day all the orchards in southern California will run out of apples and close. Is there a committee? A phone tree? An apple psychic? Anyway.) I’m pretty glad we got there when we did.
I’m not inherently a super spontaneous, go-with-the-flow sort of person. I’m organized by nature, and I was brought up to plan, research, employ graph paper, and, finally, go ahead and do what I wanted to do before I did any of that other stuff.
My easy-going husband has relaxed me to a stunning degree. His ability to live in the moment is rubbing off on me. This is a darn good thing because my children have thrown my idea of going through life in an organized fashion on the floor and dumped kale smoothie on it. Take that, plans.
If I want to do anything these days, it requires a quick decision followed by a focused frenzy of activity to get everyone cleaned, dressed, packed, re-cleaned, and out the door. Once we’re in the car, we decide what and where. Thank goodness for smart phones.
This weekend, we ended up at an organic apple orchard in Julian, CA. It was a typical October day in San Diego county: hot, windy, and very, very dry. Instead of hot cider, we opted for iced. We had lunch at an old-fashioned soda fountain, pet a llama, and played with rocks in a waterfall. It was pretty much a dream day for two little boys and their mom and dad.
Score one for spontaneity.