'Tis the Season
For visiting pumpkin farms.
At their last visit, John's mom stuffed money in Millie's hand before she and Dude left, telling Millie not to give it to me until they were safely out of the driveway. It was to be used at the pumpkin farm, so, along with some friends from church, we dutifully went to the biggest pumpkin farm within a half-hour drive, and, yes, we spent that wad of cash on all manner of frivolity. Donuts, greasy food, hay rides, corn mazes, food for spoiled, overfed goats, and the whole shebang! (Thanks, McGamma. SNEAKY!)
As is typical, though, the things that cost nothing provide delight. For Susannah, it was the chickens. This long-standing love affair is nearly as powerful as her tangled relationship with bugs. She's smitten with chickens. Chicken-smitten. Smitten Chicken.
And instead of paying a buck a head to enter the "Hay Jump" barn, which contained a row of hay bales on which to play, the girls did the same thing on the rows of hay bales that the establishment thoughtfully provided all over the place. (John took these.)
Hay jump.
Then there were, as stated, the activities for which we gave them green paper.
Flying Baby Pumpkins!
Pedal Carts! Sarah came in first.
I came in second.
And, due to our unfortunate advantage of starting at the beginning of the line, we lapped these two chubby boys by the race's end.
A hay ride! This was my first "hay ride" that was something other than riding full hay wagons back to my grandpa's barns. It was a little less exciting than swaying 20 feet off the ground on a jumble of bales, but the girls loved it, and it was my favorite part of the day.
Hay Maze! Susannah nearly got lost a few times. She'd run off, and we'd catch the tail glimpse of her disappearing, a bobbing flash of scarlet in the corner of our eyes.
2 comments :
we've never taken advantage of the fun that costs, and we've never seemed to mind before: in fact, Corynn is blissfully unaware they even exist. But just in case, I'll skip over these photos when I show Corynn. Just to be safe.
We'd never gone here in the fall before. Why bother driving 30 minutes when we can walk to the other one, right? I never even bought anything for them at Jackson's until last year because they were pleased enough with the wooden playground. Last year, though, we lived high on the hog and each bought a dollar gourd or a donut. Woohoo!
I think Mcgamma must have sensed that her grandgirls were getting completely gypped by their stingy mother, so she took matters into her own hands. The girls did just about anything they wanted this year and had a ball.
Jackson's seems a little tame now that we've experienced the wonders of the Kettle. SO MUCH to see and do that I was a little overwhelmed by it all. What to do next year, though?
Maybe a donut AND a gourd?!
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