This weekend, Bonnie and I went to Graves Mountain for some apples and fall goodness. I missed it last year because I felt flu-ey so I was determined, rain or shine, to go and get too many apples and then come home and complain that I'll never be able to use them all. Well folks, mission accomplished!
When we got there, we walked around the craft tents, looking at all the home accents and collectibles that we would have been all over in the past. Recently, we've gotten better about buying stuff that will ultimately end up in a yard sale pile within 2 years...so we exercised some restraint and didn't buy anything. We did have a good time making fun of all the weird items and misspellings on signs.
After the craft tents we visited the building where they were selling all the fall goodness you could imagine: applesauce, jams, apple butter, etc.
And funnel cakes...
Then we walked by the vat of grease that was being used to make pork rinds - if you have never had the pleasure of inhaling this smell, consider yourself lucky! It is the foulest thing I have ever smelled! But the guy who was making it looked festive...
Next we perused the apple selection. There were plenty of types to choose from - Stayman, Crispin, Winesap, Empire, and some others. I found the cutest little gourd that I wanted to buy, but I decided he'd still be there after lunch, so I put him back down...yep, you guessed it, when we came back the little guy was gone :( I did manage to find one that is almost as cute, though...
After we picked out our apples we were ready to go, but decided to drive up into the orchard on the way out...that was worth it! We walked in between the trees and felt sad for all the apples that had fallen onto the ground. It reminded me of the apple tree we had in the backyard at Wakefield - we never used any of them, I imagine because my mom grew tired of them after a few years of baking, and most ended up smashed on the ground by the end of the season.
We found a wonderful country road near the orchard that promised a winery, but did not provide one. It looked like a back road in West Virginia, and it was everything we love about Virginia:
Last stop on the way out of the festival was to get drinks for the ride home, and across the street was an old barn that was picture perfect: