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It’s Saturday afternoon, and you’re hungover riding shotgun with your significant other. Or maybe you don’t have a significant other and you’ve dragged a friend along instead. It doesn’t really matter who you’re with, all that matters is that you’re doing this.
There’s a chill in the air, but it’s manageable. A light Patagonia down sweater will keep you more than comfortable. You’ve got an eclectic playlist going on Spotify – some Fleetwood Mac, a little James Taylor, and a few hits from Bob Seger to even things out. You see the billboard advertising the pumpkin patch at the next exit on the highway, and you know that it’s about to be a lituation.
Cider, warm donuts, and pumpkins as far as the eye can see. If heaven were a place on Earth, it very well could be a pumpkin patch. Watching football, hitting the bars, doing brunch – all of these things have been placed on the back burner in favor of a fall activity as old as time itself. The pumpkin patch is a tradition unlike any other – a time for Instagram pics and crunching leaves beneath your feet. I mean just look at how much fun Will DeFries is having in that pic.
And while the pumpkin patch and the process of choosing a pumpkin to bring home is, objectively speaking, a lot of fun that isn’t the main event. Hauling your pumpkin back to your kitchen or garage is where the real fun begins.
Out come the big boy knives and so too do the guts of the pumpkin. I generally like to carve something a bit more spooky, although I’ve been known to go rogue some years and carve a jolly expression into mine. Now I may be in the minority on this, but I love cleaning out a pumpkin. And I go hard. I don’t half-ass the carving. I get every last bit of guts out of that thing to give the candle that goes inside a nice, level base to stand on.
Just digging my hands into that rotund pumpkin with my bare ass hands and massaging the pumpkin guts a little bit is something I enjoy. Not in a sexual way. I can assure you that I’m not sticking my dick in the cold pumpkin guts or anything.
Imagine me, standing in my kitchen after dislodging the top of a pumpkin, moaning and groaning as I take handful after handful of sweet, sweet pumpkin insides from out of that juicy, orange shell.
Some people complain about how messy the cleaning out of a pumpkin is and how the smell is offensive – to those people I say “Nay.” I don’t know what it is, but those guts are just fun to play with. It’s like play-doh, but if play-doh was edible. And have I mentioned all of the use you can get out of those guts afterwards? Pumpkin butter, roasted pumpkin seeds – hell, you can make pumpkin dog treats and motherfucking pumpkin soap.
I’m headed to a pumpkin patch later on this afternoon, and I may not even go out tonight. I want to get back from the patch as soon as possible so I can start cleaning out a freshie. Enjoy the day, folks..
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jduda@grandex.co