So the fact that we spend a month of the year, leading up to Halloween, celebrating it makes me overjoyed, of course. The fact that it's actually a celebration of the effectively inedible, and generally uneaten, pumpkin variety makes it perfect. What better way to eradicate squash from our diet than by picking as many varieties as we can find and letting them sit around on our porches until they wither and die a horrible, moldy death? Or, more likely, until they get kicked in or thrown in the street on Halloween night (probably by kids who share my feelings toward them).
So it's a mystery how I found myself in a pumpkin farm this weekend. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with this fundamental fact of parenthood: what you enjoy has nothing to do with it.
Regardless, I thought I'd document some of the things I saw for posterity:
Feeling out of place
No caption: I just like the picture
Another corny caption
Finally, I couldn't help bringing this one back from several years ago in Russia, posted on a blog far, far away: