When it’s fall we go to the farm to buy pumpkins and drink cider.

But sometimes the sky turns dark and it starts to rain and our boots get muddy and the hay bales on the tractor ride get soggy.  So we walk around the patch and look for the right pumpkin and then we find some puddles big enough to swim in. We realize that we are cold and wet and we decide to leave the thirty pound pumpkin behind because we can’t carry it and its pouring and we keep slipping in the mud. We walk around under the dark sky and look for something warm to drink and I only have enough cash for one hotdog so the kids split it and we sit under cover and watch the storm turn the roads into lakes.

When it’s time to head back, we run through the fall hurricane and climb into the car and bring all of the mud on our shoes with us. We drive away from the farm and our clothes are wet. Then that Taylor Swift song (weareneverevergettingbacktogether) comes on the radio and indy begs me to to turn it up and somehow we all seem to forget about the fact that we are returning home without a pumpkin.

But as it turns out, Fred Meyers also carries squash, and even though they may not have a cow train or a corn maze, their pumpkins are still orange and still very much carve-able.