Rain Farm

So we hit up a pumpkin farm last weekend.  Let’s see if you can figure out how it went from this series of pictures, shown in the order taken:

Kevin was trying to communicate through this facial expression that he was unhappy because we were:

a.  at a farm
b.  in the rain
c.  with my camera

Yes, after 62 days of no rain in Seattle, we chose this particular weekend to hit the pumpkin farm.

We went with a friend who grew up on a farm and thought it was hilarious that we paid money to look at tomato plants and bales of hay.  As we stood in the rain looking at some wet ducks behind a fence he said, “You know what we did on the farm when it rained?  We went inside and watched football.”  Kevin tried to convince me we should go home and do the same, for a more authentic farm experience.

I don’t mind the rain at all—I grew up here, so if I go on a field trip and don’t get wet, it doesn’t count.  When you cut me, I actually bleed rain.  So at least one of us had a good time.

Make that two.