A sad pumpkin story
A few weeks before Halloween K and I headed out to our local pumpkin patch for a crazy pumpkin patch and corn maze adventure. Never having lived in pumpkin-growing country I eagerly awaited my first pumpkin patch experience with more excitement than many of the kids there.
We pulled up in K's shiny red truck and I was immediately struck by the family nature of the event. Clearly we should have borrowed a few kids to make our appearance seem more legitimate. After paying the $6 entrance fee we circled the pumpkin patches clearly planted in stages, making fun of the gourds already succumbing to rot. Once around and the pumpkins seemed puny, not quite worthy of my years of carving practice. Although after having carved a three-foot tall pumpkin for someone in Germany it would be hard to find an equally impressive challenge.
The corn maze was, for me at least, a bigger draw. We wandered around the themed maze having to rely on our knowledge of local geography to find our way around. Eventually, we found the big pile of hay bales that were supposed to represent Mt. Hood. Up we climbed to survey the corn and pumpkins, and the families clustered by the food stand, the livestock and waiting for the hay ride.
After mastering the maze and hay bale Mt. Hood, we required rehydration. Sticky fresh pressed apple cider was for sale. Two bottles were placed into our wheelbarrow and we bumped along to focus on pumpkin selection. K found lots of adorable baby pumpkins, but wanted mostly the ones with the cute curly vines still attached. The rotting pumpkins distracted me often in my search. Imploded, exploded, half rotten, flattened, even one one healthy one placed inside the carcass of a rotten one making it look very much like a skull with an exposed brain, it was the same facination that causes people to stare a train wreck. For a while K and I debated which rotting pumpkin most accurately depicted the state out the current economic situation. We were going to use pictures to make a survey, but unfortunately I accidentially deleted them from my camera before finding a good format for the survey. As for my personal pumpkin, it was a hard choice. I was tickled by the albino and varigated pumpkins. However, I went for the traditional orange with a smooth carvable side and a cute stem. The abundant selection and my indecisiveness led me to find a second that I just could not part with. In the end, one tall and one squat pumpkin followed me home.
For a while they sat on my back porch out in the cold October air. I had big plans to carve them up on Halloween eve. A one-man carving party on my kitchen floor with roasted pumpkin seeds to munch on the next week. Two jack-o-lanterns to set outside my door and greet trick-or-treaters. It all excited me, because I remembered how much fun I had as a kid, both with carving and dressing up. I chose to hold off that long, because last year my pumpkins began to sag and smell before Halloween. Therefore, waiting seemed best. Then came the call I desperately needed, but it also put an end to my plans. My pumpkins sat neglected on my back porch while I went to work, second shift for more than a week. My porch light remained dark and I had to eat the candy myself. Next year, perhaps my pumpkin story will have a happier ending.
