pumpkin patch

We took Jack to the "Pumpkin Patch" the other day. Really, it's just the front yard of the neighborhood Catholic church, but I'm pretty sure he didn't know the difference.

The sign on the door explained that pumpkin prices were listed on sample pumpkins, and payment should be made by dropping money into the mail slot. It was totally the honor system. I mean, who is going to steal pumpkins from church, right?

Jack and Daddy picked out a really good big pumpkin, and I chose two smaller gourd things. One looks like a pumpkin with tiny goiters and the other is a green squash of some kind. I think we're planning on carving the big pumpkin with John's new Dremel tool bits. That should be manly fun.

Maybe next year we'll venture to a "real" pumpkin patch with hayrides and goats and apple cider. But for this year, low key and close-to-home was the way to go.


  1. Venturing to a 'real' patch is not always what it's cracked up to be. We drove 45 minutes to an orchard/patch with a major crankster in the backseat (the 4yo!), and it really wasn't that fun.

  2. We drove by Emma Krumbee's on our way home from our SoDak trip, and it looked like a rip-roarin' good time. But I totally get what you're saying. And we are definitely in a hit or miss phase of behavior right now.