Hartland Orchard

For the third year in a row we made the drive out west on I-66 to Hartland Orchard to pick apples. This year it was cooler so there were fewer bugs buzzing around our faces; there were fewer people so we found an apple picker tool for Evan; and there were hundreds of apples on the tree so I am now tasked with the job of making apple pies. Evan, the connoisseur of apples, was more than pleased to make the trip. The boy can name more varieties of apples than most adults, and because he usually eats one to two apples a day, making the hour long drive to the orchard to buy bushels of apples is actually our way of stretching the dollar as much as a past time. 

Keagan climbed every tree he could find and practiced his baseball skills with every apple thrown to us on the ground. On our walk to the farmhouse, the horses were placed in the stable prepared for their daily brushing. All three of them had covers around their eyes to keep the flies out, and Keagan declared, "Look, Evan! The horses have underwear wrapped around their heads!"