Besides dressing up, my favorite part about Halloween is the pumpkins. Pumpkin soup. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin ravioli. Pumpkin ice cream. Pumpkin Pie. Pumpkin patches.
We went to the pumpkin patch the other day, at Jubilee Farm. The same one we went to two years ago, when I was nearly six months pregnant with Giovanna and Emile was three and awfully cute.
Last week, I learned that the last picture above won second place in a contest on this awesome photographer’s site. The caption being “I can’t choose the best pumpkin until I’ve climbed on all of them,” which was easy to write because it sounds exactly like something Emile would say.
Happy Halloween, friends. I hope you’re eating pumpkin-everything, carmel-apples and of course, chocolate. I hope you’re wearing a costume and you go trick-or-treating (or partying). I hope you’re feeling the energy on this day of spirits and witches and spells. And I hope this poem helps get you in the mood.
Halloween wraps fear in innocence,
As though it were a slightly sour sweet.
Let terror, then, be turned into a treat,
Lest it undermine our common sense.
Our nightmares are the founts of fancy whence
We wander through the fields of our conceit,
Eluding the true horror we must meet
Embodied in the play of our pretense,
Now ranged across the night in our defense.