2008 Pumpkin Massacre

We tried to keep it simple this year. I even sent out an email to tell our friends they could bring cookies or something if they wanted to, but I was not going to feed anyone. Can you imagine? I said I wouldn't feed anyone. I didn't make cookies or pumpkin muffins. I didn't make cinnamon tea or maple coffee. I just heated up some apple cider - right out of the jug.

I grabbed the lights and garlands that have been hanging in our living room since the Autumnal Equinox and I slung them haphazardly across the hooks on our carport ceiling.


Chris stopped by my parents' house on his way home from work to borrow some folding tables. My cooking time this afternoon was non-existent, so I bought (gasp!) a box of fried chicken from the grocery store. I am trying not to feel guilty about that. I would like to state for the record that I don't remember the last time we had fried chicken. I would also like to state that I whipped up a simple little tabbouleh salad (couscous, chopped tomatoes, parsley, olive oil and lemon juice) to go next to it. That makes me feel a little better about the fried chicken.
Joe & Mindy brought some wonderfully perfect music - the Edward Scissorhands and Harry Potter soundtracks. And everybody brought some pumpkins.






Some of us made jack-o-lanters; some of us were Joe-o-lanterns:


And one of us was felt a little left out, looking out through the screen on the window:


On a slightly disturbing note, you should know that I sustained a carving injury. Oh, no. It's nothing that bad. No carving implements were involved. Actually, a piece of pumpkin rind managed to slit the underside of my fingernail. It's complicated to explain, but know there was definitely some blood. I tried to take a picture for you, but I couldn't get a good one. Oh well.
This was a day that will live in pumpkin infamy. Many good, solid pumpkins lost their guts today.
But they have been molded, crafted, carved and Xacto-knifed (those are just the best). I was told that these were my grandpa's Xacto knives.

These pun'kins look so beautiful, don't you think?


Yeah. That's a Christmas tree on one of them. My husband agonized for most of the evening about what to do with his pumpkin. And that's what he came up with. Random.

Guess which one is my pumpkin?

I must be honest - I took it directly from a piece of Microsoft clip art. I mean, I didn't trace it or anything, but I'd feel bad about totally taking the credit, y'know?

At the end of the night, I find that I am still bone-tired. My eyes are heavy, my head is foggy and yes, Nana, I need to sleep for 12 hours. I'm planning to do that at your house when we come up for Thanksgiving, 'k? But I feel a little bit less weary, if you know what I mean. I laughed until I had tears running down my cheeks tonight. I stuck my hands into ooey, goey pumpkins and I loved it. My kids and I made something together. And even though logic tells me I should have cancelled because I'm overcommitted and close to burning out, my heart tells me that this was almost as good for me as a full night's rest.
Sleep will come. Maybe it'll come when I'm 50, but it'll come. But nights like this don't come all the time. And when they do, I believe you'd better take them and devour them.