Pumpkin, Hairy Patches  

Hooray for pumpkin patches I say; especially the backwater ones in my wife's hometown that have yet to be over-commercialized and only charge for the pumpkins. Most places have you shelling out for every little token ride, photo op, and activity. Not so where we were fortunate enough to end up today. In a little place called Centralia, where the townsfolk are voting for McCain, scratch the inside of their ears with car keys, and no local child is without dirt smudged on their face, we did our best to blend in. From plywood recreations of American Gothic...

to whatever it is I'm trying to accomplish here...

we by-golly had a good 'ole time. Several choice pumpkins were selected and we headed back, our car filled with seasonal merriment and a variety of gourds. At home we set to turning the day's catch into feats of artistic splendor, and I to torturing my children with the pumpkin guts they refused to touch.


At the end of it all, I was left with a masterpiece of holiday proportions; a cornucopia of creativity if you will.

So with another years jack-o-lanterning behind us, I leave you with this final thought -- how awesome is my beard looking? I usually don't start showing it off for another week, but can you blame me? At this rate, there's little doubt that my Chuck Norris/Mahmoud Ahmadinejad costume will be of blue ribbon greatness.

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