Growing up in Oklahoma, I never experienced a true "pick-your-own-pumpkin" pumpkin patch. What I did have as a child was a plethora of church parking lots, enclosed by square hay bails, full o' pumpkins. Little did I know, that authentic pumpkin patches require you picking your pumpkin from the vine in the field the seed was sown, the seed that rain watered and the sunlight nourished. AND, apparently I was not alone.
On our way to dinner the night before we went to "our" pumpkin patch, we drove by another pumpkin patch. Megan says boldly, "oh, look they hid the pumpkins for the kids to find in the field." The entire truck roared with laughter. Then I gently explained to Megan, "No, that is where they grow." Keep in mind, she is an Okie too! But that there little statement is one for the record books, aka one I won't allow her to forget. hehehe!
The quest for the perfect pumpkin.
Anyone who knows Karigan knows that she is fas-cin-nated by balls or anything and everything resembling a ball. She kept repeating Bah! Bah! Bah! and pointing everywhere around her.
Our L-O-O-T,Loot!
The sign says it all. The trick: the person carrying the pumpkins has to make it from the sign to the crates, about 50 feet, without dropping any of the pumpkins for the carry to count.
Mark carried 8 pumpkins to the finish line last year. His goal this year was 10. Did he make it?
GOAL!(you can't see the two little ones Karigan is sitting on)
Strappin' em down for the ride home.
Strappin' em down for the ride home. Poor, poor pumpkins. If only they knew what was coming.
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