Last nite I picked up a pumpkin from Safeway. I've never carved a pumpkin before in my life. I've never made pumpkin pie from scratch. Hope to do both for the first time this weekend...

The first time I recall seeing a pumpkin, I was 2 or 3. My brother was still confined to a babyseat in my parents' yellow Nova. Dad told me to stay in the car, while he and mom picked something out for us.

Well, I came out of the car. I wanted to check out the big field full of HUMONGOUS oranges! When dad saw me, he either scolded me or spanked me, and I cried. Then he sat me down on one of the pumpkins and took a picture of me. Me, in my little dark jean overalls and colorful little hat.

Dad puzzled me then... I couldn't understand why he wanted to take a picture of me in the pumpkin field if he didn't want me there in the first place... and when I'd just disobeyed him. It was a priviledge to have one's picture taken, and pictures were taken during happy times. Even at that age, I pondered the apparent duplicity...