Right now, we're a bit in recovery mode from a weekend that had such promise, but totally flopped into boxes of tissues, doses of ibuprofen, and late night rendez-vous over the porcelain throne.
Our weekend started out with excited pre-dawn whispers, crayon drawings of apples in red, yellow, and green, oatmeal, and a short drive south to Henrietta Apple Orchard. Somewhere on the road, however, things took a turn, and by the time we were pulling into the orchard's parking area Audrey had started feeling chills and aches. She was visibly shivering as we picked our first few apples, and after only six green orbs found their way into our bag, we had to call it quits and head back home. She was huddled in a ball and completely miserable the whole time we were there (all 10 minutes).
I did grab a bag of seconds as we paid for what we picked, so even though our grand total of pick-your-owns came to 6, we got a nine-pound bag of windfall seconds, too. Not a totally wasted trip, but a total bummer. My poor girl was so excited about visiting the orchard, and she didn't feel up for picking even one.
As soon as we got back on the highway, she did this:
...and pretty much stayed in that position all weekend long.
We cancelled visits, changed menu plans, and watched lots of TV.
Our strategy worked, though, because her fever broke some time on Saturday night and by the end of the day on Sunday she had a little pep back in her step (though we'll need to work on getting her eating back to normal this week).
It all sucked, of course, because who likes seeing a kid sick, uncomfortable, and lethargic? But I did get around to processing those apples, and the house smelled amazing all weekend, which kinda lifted spirits a bit... even if nothing else worked out like we'd hoped.
Crossing fingers.
Wishing all a happy Monday!
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