Today, Amy and I began the day by doing something I never imagined five years ago I’d be doing — marching into our own back yard and picking apples from our own apple trees.

We picked about eight plastic grocery bags full of good apples, plus another six or seven bags of apples that were rotten or soon-to-be rotten. Our neighbor Hilda even came over to join the fun. She grew up on a farm, so was seasoned in the skills of harvesting. We were somewhat embarrassed, though, when she used those skills — or maybe just her eyes and brain — to inform us that a second tree which we’d come to think of as a particularly bad pear tree was, in fact, another apple tree. (In our defense, we had been told the tree bore pears).

Amy even used a few of our apples to make some homemade applesauce the other day. I am not exaggerating a bit when I say hers was better than the brand-name applesauces we routinely purchase at the grocery store. Yum!

See spot. See spot run. See spot swimming in his own front yard in flood waters. Swim, Spot, swim!

There once were two children beside us,
Who, when given medicine, would fight us,
Though both Amy and I
Wished to soothe their pinkeye
And the youngest one’s tonsillitis.

Amy’s been somewhat less than excited about the range/cooktop included in the purchase of our current home. So, I’m sure there’s some part of her that’s not altogether saddened by the fact that it died on Sunday afternoon. Yep, while eating lunch, we heard a really loud pop coming from the kitchen. My guess is that the bottom element cracked or something, because it now generates no heat. The cooktop still works, as does the broiler (but who uses that?). But as GE’s website lists no available replacement parts for this 18-year-old oven, I suppose we’ll be making a trip up to hhgregg in the next few days.

Last year at this time I was in Romania, which was a neat experience, but it meant two weeks of missing my wife and kids, and missing the annual Cabarrus County Fair. I purposed at that time to do everything in my power to make it out to the 2007 fair. So this evening — on the anniversary of a very somber day in American history — we chose energetic family together-time over quiet reflection, and fulfilled that goal.

Now, Amy and I had taken Gavin to the fair in 2005, when he was two years old and right at 36 inches tall. Aidan was only months old back then. But now, two years later, Aidan is where Gavin was at the time. That makes him eligible for many of the rides at the fair, and made the whole idea of the thing that much more exciting. So tonight after work, we packed the kids into the car, grabbed a fast bite of dinner, and headed off to the fairgrounds.

The first thing Amy and I noticed was that there seemed to be more rides than there were in 2005. The second thing we noticed was that we needed to take out a second mortgage on our home to cover the anticipated costs of the evening. Rides take a minimum of three tickets per ride, per person. 24 tickets cost $20. So, for a yuppie foodstamp the family could ride maybe two rides. Ouch. Fortunately, for $15/person, you could get an armband which granted you unlimited rides. Clearly, it was the best financial decision we made this week.

The boys were, shall we say, a bit excited. But honestly, they demonstrated stellar behavior the whole night. They patiently waited in lines, didn’t try to drag us from ride to ride at a harrying pace, and were respectful of both each other and those around them. Surprisingly, they weren’t really afraid of the rides we rode, either. Two years ago, I remember Gavin crying a bit on one ride that did a fair amount of spinning, and so I expected similar responses from Aidan tonight. But there was none of that — both boys loved all the rides (save for one that Gavin and I did together that neither of us liked much because it was literally difficult to breathe while on it). Ferris wheel high above the tallest trees in the area? No sweat. A smallish roller coaster with hills and thrills? Rode it twice.

Fifteen years ago, as a student in the Cabarrus County school system, I couldn’t have cared much less about the fair. And I certainly never dreamed I’d actually be looking forward to it. I guess that belongs on the growing list of things that inexplicably change when you become a parent. I suspect we’re not alone in these types of transformations, nor that parenthood is finished transforming us just yet.

But for now, I’m anticipating the 2008 fair!