Deromanticizing apple orchards

When I tell people I grew up on an apple orchard, the first thing they always say to me is, “Wow, that sounds like such a Romantic childhood!”

For many people, one of Autumn’s biggest highlights is going to the apple orchard.  They flock in crowds, enjoying scenic views, colorful leaves, going on a hay ride, selecting a pumpkin from the pumpkin patch, eating baked goods, and (of course) picking apples.  It really is an ideal way to spend a sunny October day.

Photo taken from Facebook, courtesy of my mother.

What people fail to realize, though, is all the work that goes into running an apple orchard.  All they think about is how fun it is to take photos of their child picking an apple and how delicious that pie is going to be once it’s baked.  When you peel back the commercialized experience and actually think about things, orchards are a lot less Romantic than they appear.

There’s nothing Romantic about watching your dad wake up before the crack of dawn to put in a solid day of physical labor (picking, hauling, washing apples; covering things up to protect them from frost; feeding and caring for the petting zoo animals; tending the trees; covering up our strawberry fields, the list can really go on forever) only to go to bed at two in the morning.  He’s the hardest working person I know.  And, all day, he deals with customers who have no idea how much work he does pestering him with stupid questions, telling him how to run his farm (as if they know more than he does).

There’s nothing Romantic about spending summers hoeing strawberry fields, hauling brush, trimming root suckers, spreading fertilizer, thinning the apple trees, etc. for 40 hours a week.

There’s nothing Romantic about the fact that my mom hasn’t travelled beyond 15 minutes of our house for a month.

There’s nothing Romantic about finding $100 worth of pick-your-own apples sitting under a random tree because some customer didn’t realize how much they picked, didn’t want to pay, so just left the now-unsellable fruit sitting there.

There’s nothing Romantic about working in the store all day long, then spending your Saturday night and time off making caramel apples in your pajamas till 10:30 PM to prevent running out in the store the next day.

There’s nothing Romantic about your highly anticipated Mother/Daughter shopping day in the city being cancelled because she was needed at the orchard to watch over the staff.

There’s also nothing Romantic about watching all the crowds flocking to your home, the place you grew up, the place you spend your summers tending to and caring for, only to tramp all over it and stare at you like you’re out-of-place when you go for a walk.

Apple orchards are wonderful places, and I will forever be grateful for my upbringing.  It’s given me a unique, special childhood that I will always cherish.

My brothers and I a few weeks ago.

But, sometimes, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

Here’s the scoop (on a non-sucky weekend in Morris)

So… if you keep yourself occupied enough and plan in advance, weekends in Morris don’t suck as much as they normally do.

My Bible study girls night on Friday was a success!  Thanks for all the encouragement, dear readers!  We had a good turnout, great fellowship, and our toenails are sporting all kinds of flashy colors.  (Mine are golden.)  We also watched Napoleon Dynamite, which was like a massive flashback to middle school.  (Vote for Pedro, anyone?)  My hostessing, in case you were wondering, was certainly as awkward as it always is, but everyone was pretty good-natured about it.  Thank goodness!

On Saturday afternoon, the International Student Association organized a celebration called the Festival of Colors.  The event was to celebrate the Hindu holiday of Holi, which celebrates springtime, good triumphing over evil, and community.  The problem is that Holi is a springtime holiday, so celebrating it now is like suddenly moving Christmas to August or Easter to October.  Personally, I think the oversight in the original event planning shows a lack of cultural awareness.  But they later remedied it and marketed it just as a color festival.

My roommate Katie and I attended and, boy, what a fun half an hour!  It was a free for all of water balloon tossing, bucket dumping, and (of course) throwing colorful powder!  We got covered in all kinds of colors!

Katie and I after the Festival of Colors.
Katie and I after the Festival of Colors.

For some reason, even though it’s now officially Autumn, the ghost of Summer has come back with a vengeance.  The weather the past few days has been absolutely glorious!  To celebrate (and get out of the apartment), I organized the few friends that didn’t go home for the weekend and we walked to Dairy Queen for ice cream!  We then went to a friends’ house for pizza and movies.  (And, being the oh-so-mature college students that we are, we went for Disney’s Mulan.)

This morning, I was all geared up for attending early church.  I got up at eight, did my daily hang out with Jesus, showered, dressed up and then… then I see the note from Katie (who was out late at a video game party) asking if we can go to the later service.  Normally, I’d get annoyed by the sudden change of plans, but not today!  I briefly considered using the two hours I now had to do homework or finish my painting project.  But instead I decided to curl back up and enjoy an extra hour of sleep.

Also, there’s something about being one of the last people to leave church that is extremely gratifying.  I’ve been attending my church here in Morris for four years and always felt like a passer-through.  But I’ve been doing a Bible study with adults from the community on Monday nights, so I’ve actually had the chance to get to know people of my congregation.  Thus, I actually had people aside from my college friends (who like to duck out as fast as they can) to talk with!  I was so deep in conversation with one lady that Katie (who drove with me) ditched me and rode home with our friends.  I didn’t mind–it just meant I could talk longer without feeling guilty!

This evening, in light of the final hurrah of Summer, my friend Neala and I walked to the wind turbines.  You see, that is what we do in Morris.  We have movie marathons and we walk to the two wind turbines that fuel campus.  It’s a long walk–takes about twenty minutes to get to the overlook and a full half hour to get to the turbines.  We didn’t make it all the way, but settled in an arbor in the community gardens to talk and get out of the heat.  We wandered about the gardens, talking about post graduation plans, Neala’s upcoming eleven-month missions trip, what books we’re currently reading, and how much we hate the recent seasons of Doctor Who.  (It’s always refreshing to find someone who loathes Moffat’s story writing as much as I do!)  We then grabbed dinner and parted ways!

It’s been a surprisingly good weekend!

Did you do anything interesting or exciting?

P.S. My friend Neala is fantastic at taking photos…

Photo by my friend, Neala!
Photo by my friend, Neala!