We went apricot picking this afternoon. There is this older couple who have a lot of fruit trees, and will let you come pick your own fruit for free. This particular couple are the parents of a now retired teacher Ryan used to work with. Ryan was told it was ok to just drop by whenever, so that's what we did.
Our knock on the door was answered by a 91-year-old man wearing swimming trunks. He and his wife had just finished going for a swim in their pool, but graciously invited us into their house. My first thought upon entering was- is there anywhere my children can stand that's not too close to some antique they could break?
No, not really.
They ooh-ed and aah-ed over our beautiful girls. Then his wife excused herself to change out of her swimsuit. Faster than I would have figured, she returned, wearing naught by a white button down shirt, barely covering... almost everything.
Oh, where to look?
Luckily, it was time to go pick. The old man in his swim trunks got out his golf cart, and showed us the way to the apricot trees.
We brought home a lot of apricots, as well as a lot of apricot mush on the bottom of our shoes.
Ryan insists we make jam tomorrow.