On a Sunday afternoon

I don’t know if we qualify for groovin’, but we did have a Ray Charles/Count Bassie CD playing (thanks to the public library). We were as groovin’ as a family of nerds can be, at any rate.

So it was basically an uneventful weekend, though Saturday was Dirtman’s birthday. Our holidays are low key these days and we went to a movie (don’t worry – we went to the matinee and didn’t eat anything, for those of you keeping track of such things) and to pick up another bushel of apples.

Oh, yeah, we’re all about apples lately. It’s a little hard to live in the Shenandoah Valley and not be about apples this time of year. Back in the day, when the kids were little, this meant a day-long excursion to the farmer’s markets with a corn maze, hay rides and over-priced produce. These days we hit one of the commercial orchards and pay half for a couple of bushels. No pumpkins or corn stalks or jars of pretend homemade jam; just apples, a limited supply of cider, apple butter from a local church, and sometimes honey. But it’s a lovely ride to get there and once they have your name, you are put on their very short list to be notified of the asparagus crop in the spring.

But right now it’s all about the apples: apple crisp, apple cobbler, apple sauce, baked apples and, for Dirtman’s birthday, apple pie.

For me this weekend there was the return of…

…Oh Yeah! My bird feeder! I’ve desperately missed watching the birds and already the chickadees have learned to ignore Zsa Zsa and me as we lurk a little way off.

Then there was laundry to hang out (this house is all electric and, having gotten some smack-down, whopping bills, what we were just doing on pretty days with our sheets has expanded to all the laundry, all the time, even my “delicates.”), gifts to knit, and a “House” marathon tonight.









Life is good.