Tag: farm

Hawes Farms

So typically around this time of year, I’ll start to see pictures on Instagram of girls in sweaters posing with pumpkins in the pumpkin patches, or pictures of Starbucks coffee dates, or twinkle lights with blankets and Netflix. I envy those girls. For one thing, my phone camera sucks, for another I don’t feel all that photogenic and my boyfriend isn’t a photographer.

From our trip to Hawes Farms, I have nothing to show. Also, because I have a tendency to live in the moment and completely forget to take pictures, completely forget to post those pictures on social media and then I beat myself up later for it because I could have documented this year’s “fall shit” in a scrapbook when I’m married with kids.

Hawes Farms is a pumpkin patch. Or it just started out that way. It’s a pumpkin patch with a corn maze, a cow train, haunted corn mazes, food, concerts, etc. I’d never been there, I didn’t even know it existed.

Dustin’s mom bought passes for us to go and kept pushing them on us on the weekends.

So we went for the night time part.

I’m not one to complain, but this place was definitely only for kids. The cow train had oil barrels that you sit in and you get taken around the length of the farm, but they were small. There was zip lining that was maybe ten feet long and not very high off the ground. There were go carts that went in a very small circle.

Instead of picking pumpkins like I was expecting there was one pallet of pumpkins with a price tag next to them. The corn maze was fun, although we never actually got very far and we were spied on by a drone.

We sat down with drinks and garlic fries and people watched for awhile. We watched while a concert started up in the back. The woman who was serving made my crown and coke at a 90:10 ratio and I had to chug it before we went into the haunted corn mazes. So I was feeling pretty good. So was Dustin, who was four or five beers deep by then.

The haunted corn mazes turned out to be not very long and full of jump scares. It wasn’t very scary, instead we found entertainment in scaring the actors. Dustin 1 – Kristin 1.

Dustin scared a “Doctor” who was performing some sort of disembowelment surgery. He was following the last group of people and Dustin walked right up behind him and he jumped when he turned around but then immediately went right back into character.

The next haunt, I sneaked up on someone who was pacing in a small storage unit, and yelled “boo!” and made him jump. We made a game out of it and came out laughing.

The last thing, one of the most exciting ones – at first, was the zombie paintball. We were herded into a storage unit, explained what to do and the safety part of it, then herded out to a tractor hauling two trailers. The paintball guns were attached to the rails of the trailer and could only move on a pivot, the “zombies” were just people in padding that looked nothing like zombies whatsoever and the area was a junkyard full of crap. We only got fifty paint balls, and maybe I was just irritated by that point but the high school kids supervising the ride were annoying.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to shoot the pumpkin cannon, pick a pumpkin or anything like that, because that was the morning part and I forgot to bring the tickets for it.

So Dustin and I left to meet our friends at the bar. Which we ended up leaving early, because Dustin had to work the next day and the Monster Truck show was letting out so there were tons of people flooding in.

The tickets, which were supposed to be season passes ended up only being good for one use, even though they cost $300+.

Ducklings, Jet Skis & Unemployment

Firstly, I’m surprised that I haven’t posted at all in July or August. I had no idea it had been that long. I guess its hard to notice things when you have your head down.

Here’s the second truth.

After my dog passed, it changed me. A big part of me died with him. I needed something to fill the void. My boyfriend would comfort me while I cried and mourned my loss. Even months afterward, I cried. I sobbed into pillows and cried in the face of my boyfriend’s dog, Freddy, terrorizing the poor boy with exclamations of “you’re the only dog I have left”.

Then, my boyfriend decided we needed ducks.

Actually, it was more complicated than that.

I saw a picture on Facebook of baby ducklings for sale, and I said they were cute and I wanted a duck someday.

A week or maybe two weeks later, he took me to a Tractor Supply store to see if they had any ducklings for sale, without telling me until we were almost there. They didn’t have any, and at the time we both decided it was a good idea not to get them, because we lived with his parents which I was sure, wouldn’t approve.

But then we went back after awhile and found that they did have ducklings. I looked at my boyfriend and he looked at me and said “do you want one?” I was excited but I still said we shouldn’t.

But we did.

We got two. One pure black one, one yellow one with a gray bill.

After several months, my little yellow one got kind of chunky so I named it “meatball”.

Around that same time, my boyfriend bought me a vintage sit-down Wave Runner jet ski, because we’d spent most of the summer out on the lake, testing out his 90’s Kawasaki stand-up, and our friend’s stand-up.

The first few times we went out, there were problems. Either it rained too much and the lake was full of debris, or the battery died, or the gas was low. Eventually, I got to ride and even stood up for a little while my first time. The only reassurance I had was that it wouldn’t hurt when you fell off.

Being unemployed, I’ve been depressed looking for another job. I tried to get a job in road construction with a friend of ours, but after some stories, I decided I’d rather not work there. Now I’m trying for a job at the distribution center with my boyfriend, making $18/hour, working 3 – 10 hour days a week with the option of overtime days. I have a few thousand saved up, but we are trying for twenty thousand by this time next year, so we can put a down payment on a house.

I haven’t done a whole lot of cooking lately. But can you blame me?