Me and the three smokestacks

Dan — he went over to the dark side

Photoshoot. Interview. Video. Yesterday was a full one. I was so very, very happy when our huge, black, rented Suburban hit the airport return lot and we hopped back onto our home turf.

It’s work so you don’t expect it to be a day of fun. Still, the fact that we had to shoot outside yesterday on the coldest, windiest and cloudiest day in all of this lovely September was a bit of a bummer.

The day prior we’d driven around to check the locations we’d planned. It was sunny and gorgeous. Yesterday I shivered in my flimsy jean jacket as the photographer snapped pics in a yard, at a hip-and-trendy mall and, finally, at Miller’s, which had seemed like a good idea the evening before when the autumn sun was illuminating the hay bales and the big, fat pumpkins basked in the light in the greenhouse. In reality, the wind was slicing through the entire building as we tried to corral the kids long enough for some good shots.

To make it worse, of my three male companions, only one smoked the last two times we made a trip like this. During this excursion, though, the lot of ’em lit up and little ole me ended up smelling like a chimney, fireplace or burning building — you name it. Darn you, Dan, for giving in to their evil ways!

On the bright side, I walked away from the orchard with a bag of apples, three loaves of yummy bread, and some apple salsa. Now I just have to write 2,000 words for the story before the end of next week.