Burts pumpkin patch, cheerleading, and a bbq

You can’t do fall without a trip to the pumpkin patch. Last Saturday we drove up to the north Georgia mountains to visit Burt’s.

Apparently, we weren’t the only ones with the idea.

Even though we had a picnic lunch before venturing inside the farm,

we couldn’t resist stopping by the concession stand and waiting in line for a homemade apple pie, popcorn, and blue icee.

With full bellies, we searched high and low for the perfect pumpkin.

We searched and searched and almost found the perfect pumpkin, until we were distracted by laughter from the nearby hay ride. A hay ride that had a line that put the concession stand line to shame.

We waited. And waited. And when it was our turn, we rode. And rode. And rode. I didn’t think we would ever make it back. But when we did, we said goodbye without mentioning the fact that we had yet to pick out a pumpkin.

After all, we drove an hour and half up north for the homemade apple pies, not the pumpkins. And plus, we had to rest up for  cheerleading on Sunday. Sunday was picture day for the “pinks”. The backdrop reminded me of something that would be hanging in a Sears portrait studio.

After cheerleading, we headed to a friends house to eat smoked BBQ and ribs.

The meal was almost enough to convince me to buy G a Big Green Egg for Christmas. It was every bit as good as it looked. Party manners prohibited me for going back for seconds and thirds.

Unfortunately, party manners did not prohibit MR from picking the pumpkin that our sweet friends were growing in their garden. I guess she hadn’t come to terms with the fact that we left empty handed at Burt’s…