Once upon a time, I was a pumpkin farmer. Okay, that was a slight exaggeration intended for dramatic effect…but really, I used to grow pumpkins. A lot of pumpkins. About half an acre or so, just for myself and my family. I was married then, and my in-laws had land with a water source nearby. My boys were babies, and our yearly tradition was a Halloween party the Saturday before Halloween. I was a stay-at-home mom, and my house was decked out inside and out for Fall, complete with straw bales, corn stalks, mums, and a boatload of pumpkins grown by yours truly.
The point to my rambling diatribe is this–I love pumpkins! My life has changed so much since those days. I haven’t grown pumpkins in years, with the exception of a volunteer pumpkin vine that sprang up at my old house from a busted fall decoration. But pumpkins still make my heart feel so full it could burst. I have no explanation to offer for the warm and fuzzy feeling I get when I see a pumpkin patch. It’s kind of like meeting the man of your dreams–you can’t explain it or put it into words, but being near them just makes you feel good.
On the way to my boys’ schools, we drive past Grace United Methodist Church every morning. In the fall, they fill their yard on the corner of Caruthers and Broadway with pumpkins. Large, small, orange, green, white, striped, speckled, donut-shaped…every kind you could want, they have. If you read my last post, then you already know about my mission to un-plan and de-structure my life. To be spontaneous and do more of life on a whim.
So Thursday morning, as we passed this pumpkin patch on the way to school for the umpteenth time this fall, I decided we were going. I drive past every morning, and seeing the bold and cheery markers of my favorite season displayed in all of their Autumn glory warms my heart. I wanted to be out there, in the middle of that patch, sprawled out among the pumpkins. So I said to the boys, “you know what? When I get home from work today we’re coming to this pumpkin patch and you two are picking out a pumpkin to carve!”
As soon as I got home, the boys and I hopped in the car and made our way to the pumpkins. Logan took an obscene amount of time trying to pick out the perfect pumpkin to carve, but I was perfectly okay with it. While he was busy browsing and leaving no pumpkin unturned, I took the opportunity to take plenty of pictures. I even handed Hunter my phone and let him take one of me…sprawled out right in the middle of the pumpkins like I’d been dreaming of all day!
Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I’ll share a few thousand words with you right now, without typing a single sentence: