Annual Apple-Picking

Today was our fourth year in a row taking Ben apple-picking. (Yes, my math is shaky--I am counting 2003, when we took him in utero, and 2005, when we ended up going on a day when there were no apples to pick so we had to get pumpkins instead. But we tried.)

Eckert's farm in Belleville, Illinois has a country store, a garden store, a restaurant, small rides for the kids, and pick-your-own produce. In some ways, the agritourism seems surreal: around the country, migrant workers pick our food for low wages under bad conditions, but well-to-do suburban families pile into minivans and station wagons, drive long distances, and pay money to have their kids to pick produce. It's the same weirdness that I feel about Build-a-Bear, where kids pay lots of money to create their own stuffed animals. Both products speak to a longing for a simpler time, when people were not alienated from the sources of their goods. For many people, using our own physical labor to obtain food is a novelty for which we're willing to sacrifice time and money. We only want one specific part of the experience, though. None of us were there when the trees were planted or tended; we just show up for the fruits. Looking around at the carnival atmosphere, I wondered what Robert Frost would make of all this.

At the same time, though, it feels good to get out of the city and look at orchards and fields. We are alienated from the sources of our food, so I like to take Ben out and show him that apples really do grow on trees. I appreciate the strangeness of the outing, but I enjoy it just the same.

We take a tractor to the orchards:


Gratuitous cute shot of Ben on the tractor:


In the orchard:



Reaching up for a good one:


We tried to explain to Ben that he was supposed to put the apples in the bag, but he couldn't help eating a few.


Now all that's left to do is make apple crisp.