This is just ridiculous. Because I just cannot stand the thought of fall going by without actually picking apples, I bravely took the boys, by myself, to Johnson's Corner Farm, which should be called Johnson's Rip-off Racket (I sound like my Dad), for what was suppose to be their final day of picking. But when we got there at 9:30, the trees were bare. So again, no apples. We did pick pumpkins, which the boys enjoyed. But they really enjoyed the racket. I am not showing these pictures to Gus, in hopes that next year, when I find a farm that is really just a farm, he will have forgotten about the go-carts and animals and moon bounces, and not say something like, "This is not a farm! Where is the playground? Where is the band? Where is the junk food stand?"
Gus pointed out all the green pumpkins.
He loves to play in the dirt at the park, but farm dirt did not sit well with him.
Nor Theo.
Riding back on the hay ride with our pumpkin.
The bins of little gourds were as fascinating as the pumpkin patch.
Gus on the go-carts. This is the only thing he really wanted to do.
Look! No sides. Gus was about to topple down this when I realized there were no sides. I couldn't tell from the stairs.
Aahhh. Feeding the farm animals via big, safe Jonathan-approved tubes.
Corn. Not just for sheep.
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