Past years when we go apple picking the boy child in particular picks and picks with the enthusiasm of a paid day laborer. But the thing is, aside from maybe a few sliced apples with peanut butter, he's not really an apple kid. He won't eat apple pie. He won't touch applesauce. He's not fond of apple butter. So why on earth are we picking all of these apples? So I set a limit. And you know what? He listened.
We enjoyed the day walking the farm with friends, picking some tomatoes too. We talked to the animals and soaked in the sunshine.
And at the end of the day we had a small, reasonable bag of apples. Many were eaten, a handful were baked and filled with ice cream. Some were made into candles. We weren't drowning in apples. It was simple and reasonable and a perfect way to welcome fall.