Cider is something I'm rather fond of. Hard as opposed to soft. But I'll drink both, because you can always add a bit of bourbon. So when Angel invited us to an annual cider press party last Sunday, we showed up in skirts. It was early afternoon when we pulled off the highway and down the first driveway. Having surfed for something like five hours earlier that morning, we were exhausted, to say the least. I really had no idea what to expect. Four or five friends and some kind of apple squishing apparatus? But as we rounded the corner of a rather long gravel driveway, there sat a beautiful little house surrounded by a trees turning all your favorite colors of fall. To its right was some kind of shed, under which sat two cider presses, hundreds of pounds of apples and two dozen people. There was also a pond, in which floated a small white rowboat, and a trail that took you to the backside of the property where fresh vegetables grew from the ground and rabbits awaiting their end. We participated in the apple squishing, ate smoked suckling pig and sipped on fresh cider spike with a bit of Basil Hayden's. It was an excellent evening. One that caused Karissa to throw a proper fit when the time came to leave.
Some of these photos come courtesy of Karissa, Zoe and Angel.
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