Our trip to Garin Park
Garin Park, just a 5 min drive from our house, is a relatively undiscovered place full of rustling trees and rolling hills... and something there for the treehugger in all of us. It's got a big pond with frogs, waterfowl and fish, judging from the rods we see people bringing whenever we go there; a natural world, reptilian and green, only slightly disturbed by taggers; ample fields and hillsides, for flying kites, throwing around frisbees and barbecues; occasional large parties for girls' camps or mariachis; an interesting history complete with Russian Orthodox priests on the lam from hired assassins; and one goofy family with one goofy dad, severely out of shape and carrying a 20-pound infant around (yes, lord of all he surveys), touching mossy trees.
There's an apple festival the park is putting on on September 10th; then, there's a whole apple tasting amongst the varieties they have growing, in addition to music and food. The following Sunday, the 17th, for $5, you can pick a bucket of whatever you want. (As I might've said before, Mer is beside herself at the prospect of maybe -- just maybe -- scoring some MacIntoshes, of the kind she used to grow up with. Between this and the documented pumpkin fetish she has... well, it's better left unsaid.)