Every year since our first baby was born, we’ve been to the pumpkin patch with the exception of last year, when we were in Walt Disney World for the month. Usually, we go to an empty patch filled with a harvest of gourds and pumpkins and we spend at least an hour inspecting them before piling some into a wagon and heading into the farm shop for some well earned tea and cake.
But that, of course, was before SCHOOL.
School means school holidays are the times when we can go to places such as the patch. Boo.
This year we were all struck down with a nasty cough, cold and sore throat for pretty much the entirety of the week off, and so on Hallowe’en, when we still hadn’t been able to get out and buy our jack o’ lanterns, we decided the trek to the patch needed to be made and we headed out in the car on our 80 mile drive.
Of course, being Hallowe’en means that most of the pumpkins were gone, and after much bartering with the kind man who tended the patch, we managed to secure one large pumpkin for our needs….and then we thankfully picked up 7 more on the way back at our local supermarket.
And hold onto your hats, friends…miracles happen. I got out from behind the camera. Only two of my three boys, but it’s me, in a photograph!
…even though he couldn’t see much from under his huge hat.
Three boys. I have three boys. I still can’t believe how lucky I am. Even though this is the worst photo ever taken at the patch, when there’s barely a handful of pumpkins on display and a million other children wanting their photo taken, you take what you can.
Despite it being beyond crowded, we scrambled madly onto the pumpkin display, queued to have our faces painted, ate some cake and had a little fun…and returned home with a few minutes to spare before trick or treating. A perfect, imperfect Hallowe’en.