my mama ain't no gunslinger

this past weekend, our calendar was so full with halloween-related commitments, that by saturday, i was starting to feel burned out and grumpy at the mere thought of them. francis was REALLY wanting to go to the pumpkin patch...which wasn't on the calendar. but it was a sunny day, and our last chance to go, and so... go we did. we thought maybe we could do a quick pumpkin trip this year, and get back in time for our other plans, but...well...have you ever tried to do a quick pumpkin patch trip? granted, francis did find the pumpkin he wanted within the first five minutes in the patch, but after driving for 45 minutes to get there, i said: why don't you look a little longer? go run around!... so we wandered and gathered such giant pumpkins, and got a little carried away; we ended up having to put back half of them because then we wouldn't have enough cash left to do the corn maze. so we sufficed with one large pumpkin, one medium, and one small: a nyssen-size family of pumpkins.



we entered the corn maze and were really glad we wore our boots, even tho it wasn't raining. the trails were oozing mud puddles ankle deep, and francis had a blast sloshing thru it. greg decided that if we were going to do the maze, we were going to do it right: no cheating and cutting thru, even tho by the end of october, the maze was quite a shambles, with corn splayed everywhere from people running amok in the maze. there were 12 "targets" to reach inside the maze, with hole-punchers to mark your tickets when you reached them. even if we could see the marker, but were on the wrong side of the corn, greg still insisted in following the map, (which, by the way, was a poor one) and taking the long but correct way to the markers. francis liked this way too. it was quite an adventure. i didn't mind it...but, after a few hours greg's resolve began to weaken. and well, we only cheated once! at the very end. we were trying so hard to be good examples, but, in the end...we thought, well, it is only a corn maze, after all. we can't stay in here all day!



after that, we dilly-dallied around the farm: francis and greg rode the zip-line, francis stomped in more mud puddles, fed the goats, shot 'em up in the fort (and by them i mean us), rode the tire-horses, and braved the scary "boo" barn. francis was having so much fun we didn't really want to stop and leave and rush to his school's harvest party. apparently, neither did francis. he volunteered to skip it; he said all he wanted to do was go home and carve the pumpkins. which was fine by us!
(i posted more pics on my flickr of the day's adventures...)



back home, greg emptied the pumpkins, and i set to work separating the seeds to roast them! ugh! i hate this part! anyone know an easier way to do this? all i know how to do is painstakingly separate them one by one in a sink full of water. it took me two hours! greg says: why do you bother? and i said: because. it's only once a year. and we like to eat them. it somehow makes the adventure come full circle. a day in the patch. a night of carving. and when we we are done and exhausted, we can relax, and eat freshly roasted pumpkin seeds...the fruit of our labors.

francis set to work drawing his design for his pumpkin. when he was done, he showed it to us. it was a very detailed drawing, quite small for his gigantic pumpkin. i said: hmmm...you want to put the angel of death on your pumpkin? he said: mama. it is NOT the angel of death! i said: is it the grim reaper? he said: NO! it is NOT the grim reaper! i said: WHAT is it? he informed us that is was a: masked man. and he wanted it on his pumpkin. greg shot me a look, so: far be it from me to stand between a boy and his pumpkin! too often i try to direct him: "but wouldn't you like to do this instead?" etc etc. i let greg take over, and greg did his best to carve it, per francis' very detailed instructions. and he was happy with it. greg and i were both pretty tuckered out by this time, it nearing 10 pm. our pumpkins do not display the creativity nor effort we put into them last year. i asked greg if his was hannibal lector. he said a bit disappointedly: no, it's supposed to be C3PO... and mine is simply singing the opera, but manages to look a bit scary...







on sunday, we went to our friend's annual halloween party, and francis had previously been planning on going as a toucan again (his grand idea from last year) but he changed his mind last minute, again, and wanted to go as: the masked man, the picture he drew for his pumpkin. i started to balk. "i'm not sure i'm comfortable with you going as the angel of death." "MAMA! I TOLD YOU: IT IS NOT THE ANGEL OF DEATH!" (and then he muttered: and anyways, the angel of death is still an angel.) greg convinced me that it was practically right out of lord of the rings, so... on sunday, after his soccer game, we hit the goodwill to look for black fabric with which to concoct a cape. francis had it all planned out: what he would wear, but most importantly, he would be carrying his sword. greg's costume this year was, specifically, luke wilson's character "anthony" robbing the bank, from the wes anderson movie "bottle rocket". i didn't know what to be. i told greg he should be paladin, from the 50's western "have gun will travel", which we've been watching alot of lately. but he didn't have a black shirt or black jeans. and then i realized: aha! i have a black oxford shirt and black jeans! and brown leather boots. and a western-ish belt. i stuck two of francis' cap guns into my pockets, and borrowed greg's big brown hat. the only thing missing was the mustache, which, frankly, i refused. greg said it was grand. francis said: "mama, i don't think you should be paladin. you should be paladin's secret twin sister, paladina." i said: no way! i'm being paladin. he brought it up again in the car, that i REALLY should be paladin's sister. and i said:"francis, do you have a problem with me being paladin?" and greg said to me: "i really think he has a problem with you being paladin."

it isn't that he doesn't have the imagination. the boy has imagination plenty. i thought about it a bit more, and tried to think of it from his perspective. dad dressed up like a bank robber? cool! your mama dressed up like a hero-gunslinger? might be a bit much to swallow. maybe...
i mean, after all, i'm having issue with my son wanting to be what he wants to be. (last year, a toucan: so cute! and this year? only nine and already: the-grim-reaper-who-is-not-really-the-grim-reaper-but-is-really-a-masked-man)

(sigh) so it's wednesday, and freezing, and tonight we will bundle up and go wander our neigborhood, ooh and ahh at clever pumpkins, and collect candy, in that strange american tradition. and he can be his medieval sword-carrying cape-wearing masked-man or whatever he is. and i will just be his mama...