Pumpkin Love

I love love LOVE Halloween. Love. (Love.)

 
 

Since I’m a costumer, most people assume that costumes are my favorite part. But even though my costume always rocks – I live near a college campus.

 
 

 
 

(I didn’t even bother with them because they look like crap in real life anyway. Why perfectly beautiful girls stoop to this level on the best nighttime holiday ever, I’ll never understand! In case you’re wondering, from left to right: cop, faerie princess, Dallas Cowboy. Taken from real life experience, unfortunately… it’s an image I’ll never get out of my head.)

 
 

Just… NO.
 
 

What I love most about Halloween are the pumpkins! Pumpkins combine everything that’s awesome about Halloween into one event: they’re creative, scary/goofy/punny/ironic, they’re the quintessential fall fruit, and they look awesome in the dark. Plus? They’re super cheap! I’ve carved pumpkins every year since I was like ten months old (woah – best horror film ever: babies holding carving knives).

 
 

It’s just not Halloween without pumpkins.

 
 

So this year, my best friend, Martha, my mom, and I got up super early (like 8am, zomg) on Saturday morning and went out to the best pumpkin patch in town, Melton’s Orchard.
Now, usually I go for a nice, moderately sized pumpkin: big enough to be epic, but small enough to be adorbz. However this year, as we stood at the edge of the patch examining the selection, I fell in love.

 
 

 
 

It was HUGE (giggity); the perfect shade of orange, with nice, unscarred sides, just wide and squat enough to be cartoonish, with a thick, curved stalk. Add to that its ridiculous ribbley ridges, and I was sold. There were so many ways I could go with this pumpkin! Was it Cinderella’s carriage? A hormone pumped chicken? Pumpkin Bunion?  Infinite.

 
 

I screamed delight, claimed my prize, and began to trip my way through the patch to my beloved.

 
 

The closer I got, the more I realized just how freaking huge it was. Finally I was standing right in front of the most ridiculously oversized pumpkin I’d ever seen.

 
 

But I couldn’t go back now – I NEEDED that pumpkin. Plus my mom gave me that look. The child-you’re-amusing-me-with-your-naïveté look with a bit of the don’t-even-think-of-asking-me-for-help look thrown in.

 
 

So I took a deep breath, spit like a man, and kneeled in front of my orange beauty. Then I wiggled it back and forth, sliding it around until it was tipped on its side. Then I flipped it back upright onto my knees, grabbed hold with all my might, and stood up.

 
 

Sorta.

 
 

 
 

In this fashion I hobbled my way to the parking lot, up the stairs, and into the store. I was so friggin proud of my Hulk strength that I flopped my pumpkin smugly up onto the counter. The cashier praised my selection and let out a laugh, and at that moment I realized I still had to get it in the car.

 
 

LONG STORY SHORT, I eventually got the monster home. A few days later, when it was warm enough we wouldn’t get frostbite, Martha and I gutted, stabbed, and carved our darlings.

 
 

I must say, they turned out wonderfully.

 
 

 
 

My monster’s on the right… >:]

 
 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!! I’d love to see your pumpkin pictures as well!