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Sometimes it is good to take a step back, and to look at things from a distance. Like traditions. Like pumpkin carving.

Now pumpkin carving is kind of a minor tradition, and one mostly for the young folks.

Today our journey started with a field trip to the local pumpkin patch, run by one of my very favorite local agriculture preservation activists. He and his wife are salt of the earth, I kid you not. True blue. And they welcome school buses of kids every fall to help show  them where food comes from. (Not the store.)

Not only do they grow amazing mind-blowing sweet corn and other goodies that I and other locals look forward to all year and then silently cry when we taste their sweet, sweet perfection again. Corn will never look the same, not unless they raised it or you raised it yourself.

Anyway, I digress.

These things kind of make no sense (carving gourds into scary faces to scare away evil spirits on All Hallows Eve????) and yet it is part of the shared collective, some weird bonding glue of mutual understanding. Traditions can both make no sense, and yet oddly make everything tie together.

And my kids loved it. The gooey pumpkin seeds and guts. Drawing the design. Mom, doing her best not to cut herself or anyone else in the process of carving. The pretty good if I do say so myself result.

It was an opportunity to remind my kids that this time of year signifies harvest, and plenty, and the lack to come, and how being prepared pays off.

And a chance to talk about a farmer, and how I admire him and his family, and tradition, and the rest, as we carve that silly pumpkin, gooey guts and seeds and all.

Anyway, time to light the masterpiece.

Memories made. Traditions passed. Future memories to come made.

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