Living in Southern California has its perks to be sure, but leaves little to be desired in the fall. Trees here are still green, people are still in shorts and flip-flops, but we do our best to make the season special. Today, as we do every year, we went to the pumpkin patch in search of "Mr. P."
Every year, we go there, stand very still in the pumpkin patch and listen to see if we can hear "Mr. P." calling us. We find the biggest pumpkin we can and hoist it into the wheelbarrow, tote him to the scales, guess the weight and somehow get it into the Pathfinder. Once we get it home, my husband and I struggling the whole way get him to his final destination on our front porch to sit until a few days before Halloween when we carve him. We didn't know if we were going to beat last years record, he was 117 lbs last year, but we did. This darn thing is 164lbs! No wonder the whole family had to help getting him into the wheelbarrow!
The kids love this tradition and I have to admit, my husband and I do too. October never arrives soon enough for us.