Raspberry Pickin'...

When Jason and I lived in Chicago, we had a fall tradition that I just loved: We trekked about an hour from our house to an apple orchard, where we'd pick apples, drink hot cider, indulge in fabulous apple cider donuts and spend a beautiful autumn day outside. It was one of my favorite days of the year.

Even though we no longer live close to apple orchards, I still get the urge to spend a bright fall day outside, picking some sort of produce, so I did a little research and found an organic farm about 25 miles northeast of us. And today, we went.

In anticipation of our venture, I bought Hadley a onesie from BabyGap that has a little pumpkin on the front and says, "Cutest in the Patch." This morning, I eagerly dressed her up in the onesie, a darling pair of orange pants and the Halloween socks Granny Myrt gave her. Jason teased me about buying Hadley an outfit for her trip to the farm--especially considering how many clothes she already has--but I figure that she'll wear the onesie all month and on Halloween, since she doesn't have a costume. Plus, I wanted a few pictures of Hadley among the pumpkins. (Get it? Cutest in the patch? We needed a patch!)

So we piled in the car, Hadley promptly fell asleep, and Jason and I watched happily as the signs of the city fell away, and we cruised by open fields, dotted with red barns and white houses. When we pulled up the farm, I was thrilled. A red barn! Wide open fields! The good smell of things growing!

And then I smelled something else, something not so good. Let's just say that the outfit didn't make it past the car ride, and Hadley wore another non-pumpkin-themed ensemble to the farm. (And she peed all over Daddy's new car as soon as I pulled off her diaper to change her.) Alas, the best-laid plans...

But the farm was a big hit. 

We got our empty basket for raspberries, and we walked out into a wide open field, under a beautiful Colorado-blue sky and with the mountains in the background. It was heaven. All around us, families with their kids wandered up and down rows of raspberries, strawberries, gourds, wild flowers, herbs, peppers and cucumbers. One little girl (maybe five years old) narrated her every move: "Daddy, I found a red one. It looks really good." Pause. "Daddy, I found another one. It's more like pink. But I think it's really good, too." Pause. You get the picture. It was adorable.

And speaking of adorable...

Hadley loved the farm. She watched intently as Jason and I picked raspberries, and she kicked her little legs in excitement. I think she would have stayed there all day, strapped to her daddy, taking in the sights and smells of this great new place. 

We left with more than a pound of delicious raspberries (we tasted a few as we picked), and I've already found a recipe for a raspberry almond coffee cake that I'm going to make tomorrow. I can't wait until Hadley is old enough to put on her little apron and bake with me.

I hope we'll make our trip to the farm a tradition. I imagine it won't be long before we're walking up and down the rows with Hadley beside us, saying, "Daddy, look! I found a red one. It looks really good." Pause. "Daddy, I found another..." But for now, we'll take our dirty pumpkin outfit and our sweet baby girl who kicks her legs to tell us how happy she is to spend a little time in a new place.