Apples, but not just apples

After a visit to the farm to see Scotty ("He's so BIG" says Ellie) and to feed the goats and alpacas ("I'll throw the carrots" says Ellie), what better to do than stop by the orchard? Lots of other people have this good idea too. There are huge bins of apples, dozens of varieties, and a lovely apple-y smell in the old wooden store.

The sign promises fresh pressed cider - it was just made yesterday.
("I like it" says Ellie)

When she finishes hers, she drinks some of mine.
("I could have a little more" says Ellie)
We sit outside with our cider and popcorn and with each sip of cider we smell a sharp tart apple smell.
Right behind the deck is the barn where the cider is pressed.

Right outside the barn are bins of very flatly squished apples, humming with yellow jackets and sweetly flavoring the Autumn air.

I am sniffing and sniffing.

Where's Ellie?

She found something else to take home.

(I want this one!" says Ellie.)