A Day at the Farm

This past Saturday a friend told me about a few King County farms that were hosting Harvest Celebrations and inviting us city folk out to the fields for tractor pulls, corn mazes, and pumpkin picking. John and I picked a farm that boasted of goats for our dear boy and planned to meet up with our friends to celebrate in the harvest together. They, however, chose a different farm and in the spirit of good friends, we decided to follow their lead. But in a Laverne and Shirley (or maybe Lucille and Ethel) twist, they also changed their minds. So, we ended up at their farm and they went to ours. We should have followed our instincts, however, as we never even got out of the car at that crazy farm. The vibe we got was not of waving fields of corn or hillocks of pumpkins but some strange cult that would no doubt entrap us all and make us churn butter and brush dingy sheep wearing odd costumes.

After an epic meltdown (on my part, not Owen's) we walked along the Sammamish River and then found a third farm, The Long 47. We ate kettle korn, pet the pygmy goats, took Owen through the bean maze, and realized that we were definitely a family as this kind of event would never have appealed to us before Owen but was perfectly enjoyable for us now.