Fall is most oftentimes heralded in by our family, with a trip to the pumpkin patch. Back to back years rain has decided to accompany us on our excursion down south. Undeterred we fought the mud and the rain to track down just the right gourd to carve. Happy, but muddy we headed home with our selections.
The thought of choosing an already cut pumpkin seems unthinkable, when there are so many great ones awaiting in the field to be picked. I also love tromping all over the moldy ones.
The mud was intense and was literally wrapping itself around the tires of our wagon.
The ever present, but patient husband. He would have stood here as long as necessary for me to find just the right one.
