One day, Mom and I went to the Little Farmer in Malone, WI:
That character looks sort of familiar …
Now, to enter the orchard:
Did I read what I think I read?
I guess picking apples is a risky business.
Here is where you can get some inFARMation on the orchard:
You’ll notice (as we did when Chris was here last year) that there are a lot of signs around this place. Here is one for bees:
This house is from 1890:
This Apple House is where they bake muffins and pies, and serve up caramel apples:
We usually go to the apple house near the end of the visit because we don’t want to carry sticky caramel apples all around for the bees to swim in. See? I pay close attention to these signs. No bees in my sugar fix.
Our first stop is usually the craft barn:
It was a little sparse this year, though I should have taken pictures anyway. Sometimes, I just don’t know what I’m thinking. Slacker.
On to the barnyard:
Just in case you had any bright ideas, here’s a sign for that:
FYI – When they say “feed” they mean the goat pellets you can get out of a vending machine for a quarter. Not apples or your fingers, as the sign above told you.
They’re not kidding!
Further along, we came upon what we thought was a llama, but I now think it is an alpaca. Either way, it was quite the model and posed for my camera. First this side:
Then it turned and showed me this side:
Gorgeous, baby! Yeah!
Now for the big guns (not really – remember – no firearms allowed):
Aren’t they beautiful?
After we get to this part of the orchard, we know it’s time to head home. We stopped to pick up some sliced apples (covered with melted caramel and a mix of nuts and toffee pieces) and sat in the car to devour them:
Yum! We actually split one and the other two fine specimens were taken home to be eaten by my Dad and brother, but somehow they were forgotten amid dinner and Mom’s apple bar dessert. We remembered the next day, but by that time they had turned to sludge.
Should have gotten the apples on a stick like Dad suggested.