If I were an apple hanging on a tree, I'd give myself to the first green worm, and together we would be.

Yesterday Bonnie and I drove up to Graves Mountain for the Apple Harvest Festival.  It's become a tradition for us, and we can pretty much predict everything we're going to see before we get there.  Certain vendors, including the smelly pork rind guy, are always in the same spot on the property.  It's like going to Walmart - everything's always in the same place, no matter how long it's been since you were there last.

We managed to walk around the whole vendor area without buying a wooden dog bowl, tie-dye hoodie, olive oil soap, or whatever random stuff they sell.  We got some lunch (I had awesome pulled pork sammich platter) and went to pick out our apples.  I normally don't pay attention to what kind I'm getting, but I get 1 apple from a bunch of different bins.  The only problem with that method is that when I get home I have no idea what kind I like better...

Bonnie and I each got a bag full of apples for $4.50 and then we visited some more vendors in a new area.  Anyone in the market for a watercolor of a golden retriever that doesn't belong to you?  Well, you would have been in luck.  A dream-catcher made of yarn and twigs?  Yep, they had that.   It was almost like looking through an ABC catalog.

On the way out, we stopped by a roadside stand also owned by Graves and took some pictures...we asked a few workers if they had Jonathan apples so Bonnie could take some home to her MIL, but no luck.  So we headed home.

We detoured through the town of Madison and Pratts so we could go to Yoder's, but they were closed.  I'm not sure what I was thinking - it's Mennonite-owned, so of course they stay home on Sundays for church and visiting.  But it was still a nice country drive home...

Oh yeah, God was there too.  I have proof: