Pums!

Finding the perfect pum.

"Pums" is Bun's word for pumpkins, and we have all taken a shine to it. I'm sure that's incorrect speech therapy support, but he'll get there. A few "pums" along the way won't hurt.

While Francie was having a fun sleepover weekend with my parents, the rest of us went out to the farm and hit the pumpkin patch.

We managed to pick the chilliest, most blustery day of the season thus far, just as we always manage to pick the iciest day for Christmas tree cutting despite all weather reports to the contrary. That's called skill, my friends.

This was the best picture I could get of these two. Fiver is holding our pumpkin bag, not some random piece of trash.

Poor Mopsy looked like a pile of rags because I kept her tucked into the carrier and wrapped in blankets on top, but she probably had the coziest ride of any of us. She promptly tucked her head, stuck her favorite fingers in her mouth, and went to sleep.

Once we rode the tractor out to the field, I mistakenly told the children to go pick out any pumpkin they wanted. Rob just looked at me and said, "You know we have to carry them all back, right?"

Oh yeah.

A rare picture of the elusive HomeFront Corp. Mom in her natural habitat (i.e.: with a gaggle of kids hanging around.)



I managed to convince the kids to pick out a couple good carving pumpkins, and then to pick out "baby" pumpkins for decorating. Luckily, that's a trick that always works around here. Label anything "baby" and it automatically becomes the desired object.

(Unless one of the kids is calling another one of the kids a "baby." That is distinctly undesirable.)

It goes without saying that all the roaming in the blustery pumpkin patch made the children hungry for the eight dollar funnel cake that they were selling at the end of the trail. Of course, all that funnel cake made them thirsty for the nine dollar jug of apple cider.

Repeat after me: Supporting local agriculture. . . . Supporting local agriculture. . .

Actually, the apple cider really was worth it. There's nothing like a fresh product from a local farm.

Besides, I'm a sucker for their faces.

Especially one with cheeks like this.

PS: Anyone catch the timewarp typo yet? If you look at the first picture, you can see how absolutely nuts I am. 2002 was a good year, but where did that come from? And Bun looks really fantastic for being six years PRE-EXISTENCE! Oy. I'll have to go back and fix it later . . .