I don't pretend to be newsworthy; I have no delusions that my life is actually worth reading about. The highlight of my week is usually found in the candy aisle at the grocery store. I often go days without leaving the house--on purpose. My not-quite-two-year-old niece leads a more adventurous life than I do. However, I feel that a post is due and I have nothing else to share.
As a result of house-building burnout (two years and a still incomplete house will do that to you) and complaints about lack of quality time spent together filed by yours truly (despite spending every moment that Josh is not at work in each other's company) we have decided to spend one day a week doing something together that does not involve a hammer, a screwdriver, or a paintbrush. Since we are the type of people to turn hanging a mirror into an afternoon event, the break is much needed, even if our week of "working on the house" has only consisted of painting some trim and debating over where to put a lamp. (Somehow we managed to spend two hours instead of 10 minutes hanging a few frames this afternoon.)
Last week, we went to the outlets in Manchester. We decided to take a detour on the way so that Josh could show me a new development called
Battenkill Meadows, and were pleasantly surprised to find two of the completed homes were having an open house. Putting the shopping off for a while was not a problem, as finding clothes to fit our disproportionate limbs is usually more a chore than a delight. Just to give you an idea, my wingspan is frighteningly close to Josh's--and he is 6'4" (I said that for his sake since he wants to believe it; I still hold that he's actually 6'3"). I can lay my palms flat on the floor while bending at a nearly 45 degree angle. I once devoted a whole scrapbook page to a comparison of myself to an ape. If there were anything that could tempt me to believe in evolution, my arms would be it.
Apish arms aside, here are the two houses that we looked at last week on our "Day Date", as I have been calling them. I love how the garages look like barns! There are so many things I wish we'd seen before we'd starting building our house. (Unfortunately, we were in such a hurry to begin the building process that we put less thought into the floor plans and elevations than Jenni does into what Lillie is going to wear for the day. Wait, she puts a considerable amount of thought into that...About as much as she puts into her own attire, then? ;)).
This week, we decided to take our Day Date on Saturday. We drove up to Walpole, NH, a quaint little town where my mom grew up and where all the girls in our family have gotten married so far. We picked up our iced coffees at DD and brought them into town, where we sat on a bench on the common across from the church we married in. We puzzled over a crossword...we sipped our iced coffee...and we wondered if the average octogenarian spent a more lively Saturday afternoon than we did. After we got our blood pumping (how did we get seventeen across?!), we left the common and drove up to Alyson's Orchard to go apple-picking. Upon arrival, we began our quest for the restrooms. (Turns out it doesn't matter whether you sip or guzzle after all, we both were doing the potty dance). As it turned out, there were only port-a-pots available. Having a long and turbulent history with the port-a-pot, beginning at a craft fair when I was nine and discovered there were no sinks inside, I avoid them at all costs. So, we turned around and drove a few miles back to my uncle's farmstand, where I used the facilities. The second time we arrived at Alyson's, we got out of the car and wandered around trying to figure out where to pay and get our bags. They were celebrating their 30th anniversary, having an apple pie contest, and hosting wine and cheese tastings. Commotion reigned and people swarmed about, leaving me about ready to take my apple-picking to Hannaford. (I nearly left Josh at the alter because of my enochlophobia). However, Josh sorted out which line we were supposed to be in, paid for a bag that would hold 10 lbs, and even had the foresight to ask which type of apple was best for pies. (Yes, I am going to endeavor to make a pie. Unless, Mom, you happen to read this and want to make me a French Apple Pie in return for the leftover apples..?)
The heat was a bit unbearable for this temperature-sensitive pair (Josh complains about the heat when the thermometer breaks out of the 60s, and I burn up at night and "get a chill" nearly every day. High maintenance? Not a bit.), as we were both wearing pants and it was in the mid-eighties during the afternoon. Also, we decided to pick from the row third-closest to the stand and quickly realized that most of Alyson's patrons were every bit as lazy as we. The row was picked clean from the ground to about 7 feet high. Those ape arms came into play again, though, allowing us to snatch a few that the average Homo Sapien was unable to snag.
After we tired of that (about 8 apples in), we decided to walk down to the spot where we took some of our "Rock the Dress" session photos with
Pizzuti Studios. Then we returned to the main stand where we selected the rest of our apples from a barrel and bought some apple cider and a slice of apple pie (because there was no way I was going to attempt a pie that night after the exhausting day we had just had..). We made it home for the end of the Notre Dame game, during which we had our pie and ate it too.
Don't forget to enter in the
Estella Clutch Giveaway below!
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