Honey Pooh, and the cider mill, too

Go blue, and happy Halloween, too.

Pumpkin tour stop 2, and some portraits

Some rain, some cold, a little wind, and just enough sun—it all adds up to the true feel of fall, those days that are crisp when you wake in the morning, but warm enough to go sans jacket by lunchtime (if you're wearing a sweater, that is). As wimpy as I am I've mostly abandoned my leisurely morning runs for quicker versions snuck in just after Jon gets home and before it's time to serve dinner, that time when the sun has warmed the air just enough to make deep breathing bearable. The tailgate yesterday was a tad wet, and the wind that came in last night took a lot of beautiful leaves out of the colorful trees, but it's early enough in the season that there are still a lot left. If we had trees to speak of in our yard we'd be raking about now, but as it is our baby trees don't drop enough leaves to make the use of a rake worth while.

It's hard to believe that Halloween is less than a week away. In fact, when I realized that yesterday morning, and connected it with the fact that I have yet to do any work on Calvin's costume, I had to fight the momentary rise of panic that affects all procrastinors when we are finally disillusioned of our ability to cheat worldly temporal constraints. The smart thing would have been to start work on the aforementioned costume immediately. I'm sure you already know that's not at all what we did yesterday. Instead, with just one pumpkin gracing our porch and only so many days before carving night, we decided to make another stop on our pumpkin patch tour.

I'd love to tell you where we stopped for pumpkin tour stop #2, but I can't really. I can only point you to it's location, on the west side of Wagner Road between Scio Church and Liberty. It's a patch that has been there for many years—I remember visiting it when I was in high school—and I'm pretty sure it will forever remain nameless. We've driven by the farm countless times over the past month, passing its pleading "pumpkins here" sign with its ubiquitous arrow, and I can only remain deaf to such pleas for so long. There are no signs on neighboring roads even, so you just have to be going past or already know that it's there if you want to find this little gem.

Up front I can tell you that if you are looking to spend a day on fun filled activities when you make your yearly visit to hunt pumpkins, this is not the farm for you. The Wagner farm is a bare bones experience at best; no hay rides, no hot cider or donuts, not even a pumpkin farmer to take your money, just a box with a couple of slits in the top and an undisguised trust in the honor system. But, it's a real farm house with a real barn, lots of room for picture taking, and the pumpkins are beautiful—great shapes, great colors, great stems (the stems are a real selling point with us). They had a number of pre-picked pumpkins to choose from, and also allowed free roam of their pumpkin countryside, where you can also find butternut and acorn squash, gourds, and itty bitty pumpkins. And the prices are great—$5 for the biggest of the pumpkins, $4 for the slightly smaller ones, and 5/$1 itty bitties.

It may have been a bare bones experience, but it was great fun to hike the fields for a while and to take advantage of the beautiful fall farm textures for some fun photography. Even without the frills this one gets an A+ from us. Local is great when it's well done and at a good value. And now we have enough pumpkins, so bring on Halloween!

We took a number of fun fall photos and some portraits. Check them out right at the beginning of the new October 2009, too album.

Just one more year... (and pumpkin tour stop 1, Wing Farms)

Jon got older this weekend. Forget the fact that we don't age by year, but instead in minute increments throughout every moment of every day, it was this weekend that he finally added another year to his belt and came within only another 365 days of my own decade. His real birthday was Saturday and we celebrated by spending a couple of hours at the Borders store, enjoying lunch there, and then coming home to work on the website. After that he was a kind enough husband and father to forgo any usual birthday shindigging for that fantastic after-dark hike in the woods. He did get a fantastic cheesecake out of the deal, though; a gift that required no less than a few hours of work, mind you.

The other thing that we did this weekend, in addition to our all morning tour of borders and our magical night hike, was make our first tour of a local pumpkin patch. Our goal this year, because we love fall and because the football season is looking somewhat bleak, is to visit at least three different local pumpkin patches or orchards in search of a favorite spot. When we lived over on the east side of ann arbor town we thought that Wiards Orchard would be our number one spot, and it was fun, but having to pay to get into the country fair before you can even begin looking for a pumpkin, for which you'll have to shell out additional cash later, was less than appealing. After moving to our new location last summer we thought Jenny's Farm Stand would become our mainstay, but they have no on site orchard or pumpkin patch, so their main draw is a number of depressed looking goats and horses, and a rather tall mountain of straw. So we're on the hunt for a new fall hangout in which to place our loyalty.

Wing Farms, the original home of 99% of the hundreds of free rocks you will find in our landscaping, would appear to be a shoo-in for the job, thanks to its proximity and its obvious down-home, family-owned atmosphere, and that's the farm we visited today. It's also the farm we visited at this time last year to bring home hay, corn stalks, and pumpkins. Unfortunately, it's not going to make the cut. Aside from the fact that the pumpkins are not your standard carving pumpkin (which they make clear in their advertisements for "giant pumpkins" as opposed to "the same kind of pumpkin you can buy anywhere else"), the staff is definitely made up of a down home, family owning bunch and their immediate friends and relatives. That wouldn't be bad at all, if they seemed to give a rip about the non-related people shopping there. Last year we came away with the same disappointing feeling that these people don't really want to be selling pumpkins, to which I have to ask, then why do you? So, if you want a giant, strangely shaped, and/or oddly colored pumpkin for your Halloween decorating, this is the place to go, especially if you have no desire to strike up a friendly conversation with the farm staff, or if you don't mind coming away feeling like a twit for having had the nerve to want to buy some of the goods they are showcasing. Local is great, as long as local is great.

All good things

We must have known that it couldn't last. As we went about our days enjoying the novelty of the cool but beautiful fall weather and all of its charms and activities we had to have known that the tempest was just about the bend. Cool weather, even cold weather, is completely enjoyable, especially when the sun is shining, but even when not. Wet weather, on the other hand, can be hard to work around, though far from impossible to enjoy. We intended to greet yesterday early with beautiful plans for a fun filled morning downtown followed by a relaxing fall afternoon of football. Instead we would find our first waking moments tempered by dark gray clouds urging us to roll over and return to sleep. So we lured ourselves out of bed and into the chill, damp morning with visions of pancakes and coffee at our little breakfast place at the edge of town. Being in a little town diner so early on a Saturday morning is like putting ones ear to the heart and lips of the village, and I'm sure we came away from our meal knowing more about the pulse of our town than we could have gleaned from reading its little weekly paper. Almost as alluring as warm breakfast was the draw of the monthly used book sale at the library, right around the corner. Where else can one go shopping amidst thousands of titles, coming away with armloads and bagloads of books, including several anthologies (of great poems, fiction, and short stories—some really great writers included) all for a total that didn't even require a Hamilton, which is good because we needed him at the fair that came next. And wouldn't you know, just as the fair was opening up, so did the clouds, letting loose the mournful deluge they had been hinting at since dawn. No matter, really. It is just as fun to attack a clown, feed a sheep, and ride a horse (not any horse, mind you, but a percheron, since the itty bitty pony wasn't good enough) in the rain as when it is dry, and in fact, the warm cider and doughnuts, ingested under the protective canopy of the gazebo, was an even more gratifying snack in such fall-like fall weather. Really, we didn't lament the outcome of the day until some four plus hours later, faced with a disappointing end to a bitter football game, putting our first loss of the year up on the board. Yes, all good things must come to an end.

Take that!  Who likes clowns anyway?