"Come over." 8 a.m. on Sunday morning; you could tell my mother was out of town.
I did some laundry and packed up my peanut butter oreos (recipe coming soon!) only to get there at about 10:30 a.m. and still find her in her pajamas.
"Mia, I thought you wanted to go apple picking; why are you still in your pajamas?"
"I'm hungry. I want lunch first."
(She, at age eleven, handles the early morning hours with almost as much grace as I, at age twenty-four, handle the hour before dinner. Okay, okay: she handles it considerably more gracefully.)
After a quick stop at Taco Bell to appease both Mia and an equally hungry Nicholas ("Gina, I'm a grown man. I cannot subsist on one meal a day"), we made it to Mills Apple Farm.
Enjoying some beautiful weather, we picked some "grannies" (so dubbed by my mother several years ago) and came home with a big jar of honey and some apple cider slushies.
If you are looking to pick your own apples this season, check out PickYourOwn.org for a place near you. 'Round here, it seems like the apples have been a little early this season, so we were a little late in the game, but I'm hoping to try out another new orchard near my parents' house before the season is entirely over.
And these apples? Well, I still can't decide if they should become apple pie, caramel apples, or both of the above.