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Cider Mills, Steak, and Horror Movies

Last weekend was the annual trip to the cider mill.  In Michigan, cider mills are part working mill and part tourist attraction, with food treats, playground-style attractions, and pick-your-own apples.  (The latter doesn't appeal to me much--I grew up with apple trees, so why anyone would pay to pick their own apples is beyond me, but hey--it's Family Time.)

This particular cider mill has a corn maze in it.  Aran's prodigous memory always ruins mazes if we let hm, so he promised to stay quiet while we worked our way through this one.  We also admired the various farm animals at the petting zoo and went down the giant slide a few times.  Even Darwin braved it!

Afterward, we went to lunch at a steak house that has a fun gimmick. They bring you a raw steak and a ceramic stone heated to 750 degrees. You slice pieces off the steak and cook them on the stone.  I was the only one who actually ordered this meal.  Darwin and the boys got hamburgers and ribs intstead.  Maksim admired my steak, though, and when he tried a piece, he announced that next time, he wanted to get one.

We rounded out the day by going to see OUIJA, the current horror movie.  (Aran sat this one out.)  Our verdict?  Three thumbs down.  Darwin, Maksim, and I found it dull, slow, predictable, and--the worst sin of all--not scary.  I was further annoyed by the fact that the female lead attended a Catholic girls school in 1967, where all the girls wore dresses way above the knee, and the protagonist's skirt was noticeably shorter than all her classmates'.  Give it a miss, folks.

But we had free refills on the soda, right?  So that was cool.  It was a fine Saturday.

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( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
jhetley
Oct. 26th, 2016 12:46 pm (UTC)
Future-Wife and I used to ride my motorcycle out to the Dexter Cider Mill on good fall days. Cheap date, good cider . . .
delkytlar
Oct. 26th, 2016 05:11 pm (UTC)
I miss the days of boosting my kids into apple trees to get the good fruit that others had missed. Watching them stroll around, nibbling on a fresh apple, washed only by a quick rub on someone's shirt front. Fresh, hot, cider donuts and a glass of cider to wash it down. Simple joys.

Catholic school girls were rolling their skirts on the way to and from school since time immemorial. As long as the nuns didn't see it, the sky was the limit. And the nuns would sometimes pull out the yardstick and measure the length and amount of leg showing, just to be sure all was within dress code specifications.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
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