One of my favorite Fall traditions (well, I wouldn't really call it a tradition, more like an every few years or so kind of a thing) is heading up to Apple Hill. It's a local region with crazy amounts of apple farms, many of which are open to the public. I used to go as a kid and ransack the Fudge Shoppe, not for fudge, but for rock candy (and actual rocks/gemstones to add to my pathetic rock collection that mostly consisted of gravel from our driveway). I've got a lot of memories up in those hills, and this past week I had the opportunity to drag my parents out to sample some apples and, my favorite, fresh apple cider.
Although, to be honest, I didn't get any apple cider on that trip. But I did five days later when I lured my cousins with the promise of fresh apple cider doughnuts after we had been hiking nearby. Hey, a girl needs her hot doughnuts and apple cider, am I right?
Apple cider doughnuts so fresh they burned my mouth.
Searching for the best apple farm.
Old hardware stores
My dad.
Thrifting.
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