Like my backyard fall décor?
This is so not my backyard, I’m sorry to say.
My backyard needs a little more tending than this, as we are learning that things appear to grow faster on the marsh than they do on the ocean.
And, we do like pumpkins.
But not this much.
Oh, and my mum that I showed you earlier?
Yes, there it is in all its current glory. Just keeping it real for y’all.
The attractive-looking yard above is actually part of the pumpkin patch my son and I went to this week for a field trip.
It was out in the country, quite a distance from our island. But, it was filled with fun activities for the kids, including a bouncy house, a three-wheel “tractor†racetrack, a pretend cow to milk, a petting zoo, and a good old-fashioned playground, so it was worth the drive.
Here, they learned to grind maize.
There was a piglet race between five of the piglets. Personally, I would be fascinated to watch my quintuplets race, if I had quintuplets, but their parents, wallowing in mud nearby, seemed disinterested.
After free time to explore, we took a hayride to the actual pumpkin patch, where the pumpkins had already been picked and were waiting to be found. My son picked a medium-sized pumpkin without its stem that caught his fancy. I’m partial to the stems myself, so I chose the one on the left.
When we returned home, I showed my daughter this picture of the pink pumpkin, and now she is undeterred in her determination in obtain her own pink pumpkin. She knows, too, that she is going to this same pumpkin patch with her class next week, so she has ordained that she will indeed come home from her field trip with a pink pumpkin. I tried to explain that this pumpkin was the only pink pumpkin there, painted that color for decoration. She remains resolute, however, so we shall see how the visit goes next week.
Maybe I’ll run to the store to see if I can find a travel-sized spray can of girlie-girl pink. When we reach the pumpkin patch, I’ll head the opposite way she does and quickly spray one down for her.
Knowing my luck, however, I’ll more likely get labeled in the local paper as the pumpkin patch vandal.