On Pumpkin Carving
Noah begs me every year to carve a pumpkin. Ah, yes, carving pumpkins. Immediately this evokes dreamy images of crunchy leaves and crisp air, of lattes with harvesty-sounding names, of scarves and silvery breath-vapor early in the morning. Then I snap back to reality as I remember that I am, in fact, sweating (which may have more to do with the hot flashes that currently beset me, but that's beside the point). It is 83 degrees, which means the said carved pumpkin will last a whopping 3 days before it melts into an orange puddle of moldy pumpkin goo. Such is pumpkin carving in Florida. :) That, and have you ever noticed how much work it is to carve a pumpkin? How much mess ? And did you notice how Noah always asks if WE can carve a pumpkin, when he actually means "YOU, MOM"? He has good intentions. He shows up with the knife and the gargantuan metal spoon, smiling all eager and ready, but at the first sign of this-will-take-long...