Cider Mill

Fall is here, and despite some warm afternoons here and there, it feels like it. The air has a crisp taste to it, and an edge of chilliness. The leaves on the trees are rimmed with light color and the plants have lost their summer green. Everything feels expectant. It's the beginning of my favorite time of year.

Lilah has been changing too. She's more of a real person every day. It takes me forever to go grocery shopping because she has to say hello to every person we encounter and point to things and ask, "What's that, Mama?" She's so curious and fun. She's still a little scared of dogs, but she warms up to certain dogs after awhile. As Dano says, "She likes the ideas of dogs. Just not dogs themselves."

Lilah hates when I leave the house to go to work now. I pick her up to give her a kiss goodbye and she wraps her arms around me tightly and looks at Dano. "Bye bye, Dada!" She screams when I hand her to him. She's my little buddy. On my days off, she goes everywhere with me.

Lilah and I went to the Birmingham Farmer's Market. I got both of us ready and picked her up. "Bye bye, Dada!" I smiled. She was right, this time.
"Yep. Bye bye, Dada. You're coming with Mama today." She smiled so big I couldn't see her eyeballs.
"Mama!"
It was a nice drive down Woodward into Downtown Birmingham. The Farmer's Market was outside with live music and lots of friendly people and produce stands. We wandered about for a bit before getting back into the car and driving to the Franklin Cider Mill. "Out, Mama!" said my backseat driver. I got her out and we explored the mill. There was a large stone room with a giant candy apple-red, wooden waterwheel. Lilah stood on the stone ledge and gripped the metal bars with her pudgy little hands. She liked the spray from the waterwheel on her face. I wanted some fresh cider for the house, so we went to search for it. We passed a stand selling huge footlong hotdogs and sausages. Lilah smelled them on the breeze and her head snapped sharply toward the stand and her eyes resembled saucers. The hotdogs and sausages were easily as big as her arm. "Hooooootdogs, Mama!" I laughed.
"We'll have hotdogs when we get home, my love." She watched them until they were out of sight. The store was set up like an old barn. She tried samples of various crackers, sausages, and cheeses before deciding she wanted all of them. I bought a brown paper bag filled with hot spiced donuts and a half-gallon of fresh cider. We went to the tent outside and bought Dano a caramel apple with nuts and a large jar of apple butter. I prefer pumpkin butter, but I was outvoted. My arms were getting full of our acquisitions and I nervously let Lilah walk holding my hand. She wanted none of this and tottered off on her own. That was exactly what I had feared. Thankfully I'm still faster. She had stopped on the wooden bridge over the river to hold the bars and look at the water.
"Duckies!" I held her hand firmly and we walked to the stone hedge by the river. I placed her on the edge and sat next to her. Her eyes lit up when I pulled a steaming donut out of the paper bag (now getting dark spots from the frying oil). I broke it in half and handed her a piece. She munched thoughtfully and we watched the ducks. Some other children were throwing bits of their donuts to the ducks to lure them closer. When a duck (or child) would approach, Lilah would pull back sharply and shield her donut.
"What does a duckie say?" I asked her.
"Uh, quack?" a little boy said judgmentally, raising his eyebrow and continuing to stalk a duck. Lilah said,
"Quack, quack, quack," between bites of her donut. We sat together awhile and made our way back to the car. It was a lovely little detour, and I'm thinking of making it a Fall tradition. When we got home, I gave Lilah a cup of diluted cider and set about putting ketchup on a hotdog for her. By the time I turned around to hand it to her, she was trying to catch her breath. She had gulped down the cider in less than a minute. Our doctor always had told us "Let her eat her fruits, not drink them," so she only gets juices once in a great while. Obviously, she considered it a special treat and sucked it down quickly before I could change my mind. I've got to be honest. That doesn't bode well for me later.