At one of the Apple Hill orchards, I believe it was Larsen’s, we toured their farming museum. The museum itself was in an old barn and had memorabilia dating back to the 1800s.
Out front was this cool wheely thing
Inside there were little scenes set up so we “modern day” folk could see how rough life was as a farmer, but you know my family, we find any opportunity to turn a perfectly good museum into a laugh factory….
For example, I pointed to this and, not using my inside voice, said “I just love this knob!”
Mom, realizing the name of the game and stepping up to the challenge, grabbed my arm and thrust me towards this and said, “I dunno about that, I just really love my sausage stuffer.”
Peals of laughter ensued. Husband rolled his eyes and said “Inappropriate.”
By the way, that photo yesterday of the boys by the Coke cart? Yeah, well that took 3attempts to get a good shot because of this monster of a little sister:
Charming isn’t she?
Out behind the museum was a graveyard of old farming machines like this old truck:
And this train-looking thing:
At one point or another we all wistfully said out loud, “If grandpa were here he could tell us what all these things did.” Mom also thought that grandpa on-the-farm could have a graveyard of his own.
This is Dad telling Husband that he doesn’t think StarWars was all that good of a series, but that Ghost Rider was robbed of an Academy Award:
With 2 photographers in the family and one poseur (that would be me) you get used to seeing this all the time:
Even strangers like this guy who happened to be wearing the same sweater as yours truly. Yeah it’s J.Crew men’s what’s it to you?
When you see a sweater twin, you have to take a picture amIright?
Also when you see a toddler with a mustache face painting you must get a picture
Anyways, we ate our body weight in apples, apple donuts, apple fritters and fudge, but did I get any pictures of that? No, no I did not because I was too busy eating.
What I did get a picture of, for posterity you know, is that monster of a little sister eating a pot pie. We went to what many people call the “gem” of Placerville as it’s a tucked away café that serves only pot pies or salad, but who gets a salad from the “gem” of Placerville? No one, that’s who.
Anyways, normally this is how the monster feels about pot pies
She don’t like ‘em…she’s crazy.
But this particular pot pie? Got her stamp of approval
Why you ask? Because she said it tasted like Pizza…Ohkay….