Two weekends past, a Sunday trip to the local pumpkin patch was fruitful; we returned home with restored smiles and two slightly uneven - but lovely - pumpkins. One week later, we plopped those glistening pumpkins on the kitchen counter and set to work; we hacked, sliced, sawed and scraped. From my choice of verbs, you'd probably think that we were committing murder. Quite the contrary, but it was a feat of similar difficulty. Our pumpkins just did not want to obey. They were rebellious pumpkins, our two. My pumpkin lost a feature or two in the process, and Graham's suffered minor injuries. In the end, we wrestled them down and got the job done (partially, at least).
This year, the orange-and-black glamour of Halloween did not beckon to me. This sudden closed-off emotion towards the holiday may be associated with current events in my life, but I decided to practically skip the 31st this year. However, my brother did not -- enjoy the last photos of Graham decked out in his authentic nerd costume and have a happy Halloween!