Apples and fires (waterfires)

This morning, I was resigned to Autumn. I went apple-picking yesterday, we made apple crisp (mmm-mmm!), and we smelled the wood fires on a cool evening. It is Autumn. I was at peace.

You should have seen my face this afternoon when I left the house and found it was 80 degrees out. Oh, New England, you tease!

Yesterday was a lot of fun, even before I saw this bumper sticker:


It was a beautiful Fall day, and the apples were ready:


Some of them have clearly been getting up to no good, though:


Even the small fry were having fun.


(This isn't someone I was there with; I felt okay with posting an unidentifiable photo of someone else's kid.)

Before you start picking, a peck doesn't seem like a lot of apples. As you're carrying them, it comes to feel that way.


And when you get them home, you're sure. A Lot of Apples. I have applesauce bubbling on the stove, which smells marvelous. I'll be making more before too long, given how many apples are still left. (I'm not complaining.) Yes, it was a lovely day.


I went shopping for a while between apples and evening plans. Didn't get anything exciting*, but I was pleased to find that the outlet mall has a Merrell store. When my feet are fully recovered*, that will be good to have.

*Although, if you are near a Harry & David and you like caramel corn, may I recommend the fat free caramel toffee version of the Moose Munch? It's not cheap, but you won't regret it. At all.

**The blisters are a lot better. I wear shoes! But those last two spots are not 100% yet, and as I learned, trying on shoes is inadvisable until they are. Nothing feels right.

Do you recognize these? There was a whole tree of them, looking like exploding raspberries. Fascinating.


After dinner, we went into Providence for WaterFire. It was very autumnal fun, and I took many blurry photos. A few are reasonably clear.




I hadn't looked at the website before finding it to link to, and I am greatly amused that they call it not a festival, not a party, but a sculpture. Riiiight.

I was taking some Pan pictures recently, since he was looking especially fuzzy in the sun:


When I turned my head, there was another country heard from:

Did you know you have two cats?

Poor Harold. He gets no respect.