Apple picking and more, my friends are my family.

Last night I drove up to Middletown to pick up my godson Damien so that we could go for a bike ride with the bike club and then could go apple picking with our good friends the Ragamuffins. (Okay, that's not their real name, but their two individual Indian last names take up all the letters I have available, so I've come up with this combined name for them.)

Damien and I stopped for dinner at the incredibly un-self-aware Cheeseburger Paradise and had a fantastic talk about god, organized religion and astronomy. Damien's 13 now and really is an astounding kid, he's got an understanding of things that is beyond his years. We talked about the oddness of forming a religious belief around the literal interpretation of a book written thousands of years ago, way before people figured out key things like the Earth is round and those dots of light up there aren't the front porch lights for people living in heaven. And yet, Jesus was born from a virgin mother, and he walked on water. Uh huh.

The we talked about Buddhism, the study of foreign planets, and finally the plots for good books. He also mentioned he's glad that I currently have his computer to upgrade it, because it gave him a break from WoW and he's really glad he's not playing it now.

Today after a festive breakfast of pancakes and hash browns made with pancetta, we went on a ride, joined by my NYC friend Matt, who came up for a super-chilly bike ride on his birthday despite the fact that... well I might have already mentioned this but it was really chilly. There must be something about riding a tandem in the cold that makes it tougher, because it was the longest 25 miles I think I've ever done. We had to make a pit stop to fix his sweat pants, which got stuck, in the chain (packing tape took care of that) and we stopped for my favorite whole wheat bagels. The last 10 or so miles back were just long, hard miles.

From the bike ride we went right off to my new super arch enemy Concklin Farms, where we, with the Ragamuffins, were to go apple picking. Only, no apples. Sure that makes sense right, an apple picking farm with no apples. They had bouncy castles and kids amusements, but we were there for apples, or more precisely Shakthi was, she was looking forward to it so we went to super-awesome Dr. Davies, who somehow managed to plant the right amount of trees some 30 years ago to handle the crowds. It's as if they somehow instinctively knew who to run a fucking farm when they decided to go into the farm business.

We pretty quickly gathered the half-bushel bag of apples (a whopping $30, it seems that we're really paying for the ones we drop on the ground and leave behind), ate a bunch and took a lot of pictures. Crisp fall day with crisp fall apples is a perfect combination, made better with friends and family and a super-cute new baby!

Back home, quick clothing change, goodbyes to Damien as his mom picked him up and then off to New Jersey to visit Adam and Angela and their super-cute bröod of children. When I say cute, I mean super-cute, and not just because I know that Adam's a lurker of my blogs. Hi Adam.

The house was awash with adorable children in fact, each of them more precious than the next (although the three belonging to Adam are the cutest. Hi Adam). I get along really well with kids, I think they see me as a bit of an emissary of sorts, an adult that really gets them. Here's a secret to talking to kids: they don't like it when you point things out to them like you got so big or you have pretty blonde hair. But they love it when you ask them things that they can answer and so they can show off. Your sweater is so purple and fuzzy, did mommy get that for you? or are you a real lion? You really look like a real-live lion! (That one works best when the kid is wearing a lion suit.)

During and surrounding the great meal out in the Sukkoth hut, (NOT a Star Wars character, by the way, that would have two "t's" as in Hutt) I managed to accidentally defame Vancouver to a native Vancouveranian, and to go to far in a conversation about how telling kids to ask "when" they can play with a toy being used by their sibling not "if" they can play with it could lead to problems later on in life.

Which is why it was good that Schoolhouse Rock was on in the living room, and so I joined the three-hundred (or 9) children watching that. It's really odd how many visuals I distinctly remember, and yet couldn't recall if I weren't watching the show. Anyone know what that type of memory is called?

Lots of time with kids today, and really, hats off to those of you that have them. Despite your (desperate) requests to have us take them from you, we know you love 'em. And how can you not when they fall asleep on a couch while wearing a giraffe costume?

Comments

[Adam]

Hi David.

I missed the "when" / "if" conversation. I do the 'when.' I don't want to take this to far but, what are the risks? The public-space toys are for sharing, right?

-Adam