Apple picking has been a family tradition since before we were even a family. It dates to the time, over a decade ago, when I went apple picking with friends in upstate New York and then mailed a box of some of the apples we’d harvested to my new friend Erick Gong, then toiling away at a Connecticut hedge fund. Since then, I can’t think of a year when we’ve missed apple picking. Usually, it’s at least a half-day outing and requires a long drive to some country place.

But this year, with Grandmommy and Granddaddy Gong visiting Vermont from California for the first time, we drove about 5 minutes up the road to the Happy Valley Orchard.

The harvest was plentiful:

But the workers were willing…

…the workers were dedicated…

…and the workers were HUNGRY!

Even Georgia, a recent convert to the world of solid foods, got in on the action:

As if the apples weren’t enough, Happy Valley also had honey sticks for sale, which the girls enjoyed as a reward for their labor.

AND, just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, there was a TREEHOUSE!

A treehouse that you could climb up and up…

…And pose for goofy pictures with your Daddy…

… and then look out and see this:

And it probably doesn’t  get any better than this!