Or All Hallows. Or Samhain or Beltane, depending on which hemisphere you’re in and which holiday you celebrate, if at all.
I don’t go for all the ghoulish stuff myself. But F. and I carved one mean jack-o-lantern. I’d been meaning to do that with him since we first started dating, and every year something kept getting in the way. But this year, we went to a “pumpkin patch” at the local elementary school, manned by the cheerful grandparents of one of the students, and picked out not only our pumpkin for the main event, but also a greyish blue, scalloped pumpkin that F. swears is the European standard for eating (we shall see) and which I honestly wouldn’t mind growing, it’s so pretty.
F. managed to balance it on his head for about 10 seconds, which should tell you the kind of relaxed, playful mood the mellow gold autumn sunshine was inspiring in the pumpkin patch. Wish I could grow some in the Victory Garden next year. I’ll have to see if we could expand our own “patch” a little, to give the vines room to run.
This was F.’s first experience of the jack-o-lantern carving ritual. I think he secretly wonders now if we’re all nuts. But he didn’t object to the roasted pumpkin seeds in the least!
The photo is of some lovely quilled mums my mom and dad gave me, with a background of American standard orange pumpkin, taken just before we lobotomized Jack.
Everybody have fun and stay safe out there tonight!