Yes yes, many an apple was picked on this hot and breezy saturday afternoon in September. It was a lovely day for a country expedition and we filled the few hours traversing dusty dirt roads, exploring huge barrels of festive, autumn, baby gourds, oh, and sampling many a different kind of apple. The men amused themselves by hurling fallen and bruised apples across the (thankfully vacant) orchard until they were told, in no uncertain terms, by a Mexican farm worker astride a large and formidably rumbling (and significantly rusty and dilapidated...) red tractor, that they were not to throw apples into the yonder field "at those cows over there". Well, even after much investigation of the nearby field, no cows were ever spotted. But, the apple "Olympics" were put to a halting stop and we retreated down the dusty, winding ( and very precariously narrow) road from whence we had come, with little harm done, to man or beast. A lovely day.
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