Well, we headed on over to Uncle John's Cider Mill today to officially kick off fall... and to get us some doughnuts. The place is about 30 minutes away, but it seemed like three hours because Mr. Z and Miss O decided to be LOUD AS SHIT THE ENTIRE WAY! I swear, I think I'm going DEEF due to their collective decibalage. I mean, it's great that they have so much fun together but holy carp, does every one of their characters have to have a voice that pierces my tympanic membrane and bores a hole through my very soul?! Apparently, the answer is a resounding YES!!!!
So, we got there finally and what is the first thing we do? Of course, it's a cider mill so we went to the Moon Walk. That's right -- if there's a moon walk, it must be bounced upon, goddammit! So we fork over our first two bucks so the LOUD TWINS can jump around and almost break the necks of kids half their age/size for fifteen minutes. Boy was that fun. Then we headed over to the "Snack Barn" for our first bag of doughnuts. Fuck, they're yummy. Plain, pumpkin, cinnamon and cider flavored fatty O's. I could've eaten the whole fucking bag but I stopped at three. And then ate another one. My colon is packed with nuts of dough. It will truly be time to make the doughnut tomorrow morning. One giant doughnut that I'll probably have to stand up to finish off. Sorry.
Then, what did we do? Oh, we stood and watched some high school jazz band play a couple of tunes. I think the true Mother Theresas of this world are high school band directors. Holy crap, what a shitty job. I wouldn't be able to muster the energy to get out of bed in the morning, knowing that I'd have to go hear that dissonant crap every day. Sure, it was great that they were there and that they were trying and all, but man, calling that "jazz" was an extremely generous gesture. Sounded more like "jizz."
Uh, then we went to the cider mill and got us some cider, which I later found out was unpasteurized, so when when I stop posting entries in this blog, you'll know we all dropped dead from e. coli poisoning. It was tasty though, so our deaths won't be for naught.
The old lady and I then decided to not be us, and take a tractor ride to the giant "Corn Maze." Seriously, it sounded like a pain-in-the-ass, but we went for it, and I'm glad we did. It was a giant corn field that had this maze carved into it, apparently by aliens, because it looked like this from the sky:
And so, despite the protesting of "the kids who never want to do anything fun," we entered the maze. Here's a not great shot of said kids during a "whine-break":
There are better pics where it doesn't look like Mr. Z is pinching a loaf in his pants, but I have this weird thing about posting recognizeable pictures of the kidlets. I know I'm being paranoid, but I don't like the idea of pictures of them being "out there in the ether," for some reason. There's actually this hilarious shot of the two of them doing karate in the corn maze and a classic with their heads in the stocks, under a sign that says "Pumpkin Thiefs," but you'll just have to use your imagination. Maybe I'll lighten up someday, but for now you'll have to settle for fuzzy/far away photos.
We survived the corn maze and didn't have to eat the rest of the doughnuts to survive. Then we tractored it back to the main barn, bought a peck, yes, a peck, of Honey Crisp apples that are basically like eating an orgasm. With seeds. Or is that redundant? Seriously, if you can get your hands on a Honey Crisp apple, eat the shit out of it. Your undulating, pulsing maw will thank me for it.
On our way out, we bought a bag of doughnuts for our neighbors and, inexplicably, another 1/2 dozen for ourselves, and that was it. Then we drove back home. Good clean crabby-family fun, once again.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to eat one more doughnut and then slip into a peaceful diabetic coma. Mmmm... diabetes.