Urban Farming - the Pink Factor

This week I took Bella to the pumpkin farm, though, in fact, I didn't see any pumpkins.  Different farm, but largely the same.  Let's get question number one out of the way - yes, there was a corn maze.  I know that because I saw it on several signs. Not all Granma's are as gullible than they look - or maybe we are just a bit smarter than expected.  No more mazes for me!  I also brought along another adult, just in case I might be tempted into a corn encrusted labyrinth again.  It turns out my brother, Jim, didn't need to lead me either through or away from the tall corn - a relief for the assembled three.

As we stood in line for the privilege of playing at an urban farm, Bella announced she would like to go apple picking instead - which was handily just across the street.  That was enough to make this chick(en) cross the road and for good un-mazed reason.  (I just used up my quota of bad puns.  You should now be safe to the end of the blog.)

Apple picking is not what it used to be.  First, you stand in line for half an hour the right to pay $10/head to pick apples.  The $10 buys you a paper bag that you will eventually be able to fill with apples.  As you can see, eight straight boys (sons and grandboys) have left me at a deficit when it comes to the grandgirlie thing.  These are best earrings I could come up with - and they did kill nearly 5 minutes of the 30 - a Granma success by all standards.

After the accessorizing and before the picking, comes the "hay" ride out into the orchard.  I remember hayrides from my childhood.  Back in the day, the tractor went slowly, and you were allowed to jump (or fall) off and jump (or be pulled) back on.  It was part of the "charm" of the event.  Apparently urban farms have more respect for OSHA than tradition.  It was not possible to either jump or fall off that slow moving vehicle.  I could forgive them for that.  Having tripled or quadrupled my age since my last hayride, I'll give a nod to safety.  However, who ever heard of a hayride without HAY?  Seriously!  It was more like a cattle mover than a hay ride.  At least the midget among us did not object.  Then again, she didn't object to the earrings, either.  Hmmmmm.

Bella is quite the experienced apple picker.  Do not pull the apples from the trees.  Instead, lift and twist and the reward will fall into your hand.  We were also encouraged to eat all the apples we wanted, as long as we ate the whole apple.  We obliged, though were careful to leave room for warm apple cider donuts.  Oh, YUM!!  In case I give the impression that I'm always pining for the good old days (how Granma of me), Kuiper's warm apple cider cinnamon-sugar covered donuts are some of the best things I've ever eaten!  Sorry, Iowa.  Urban farms excel at sugary fried dough!

So, Miss Bella, my love, thank you for teaching me the finer points of girl Granma-ing.  Thank you for humoring me and correcting me kindly when I forget you wear pink.  Thank you for loving me and thank you for letting me love you!  I'll work on harder the earring thing...