First of all, let me start off by saying that regardless of the fact that I’m not very tall, I don’t have an overly-large truck.
Does that suggest anything about me?
Now you might be tilting your head and looking at me suspiciously, saying, “Uh, Deb. You don’t have a truck, do you…?”
And I would say, “You’re right, I don’t. It’s just the same ol’ me.”
But if I did have a truck, I don’t think I’d be overly-concerned about its size.
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I purposely didn’t carve our pumpkins last month because I thought we might try splitting them open, cleaning them out, and actually cooking them up this winter. My heart lurched into my throat this morning when I saw they were no longer sitting on our lowest step.
Can you imagine me spinning in a circle and shaking my fist at the sky? Eyes cinched shut, howling at whoever the scoundrel was who kyped our pumpkins in the cold cover of night?
That’s what played itself through my mind as I just stood there, glowering at the spot where they’d been last evening. I thought it was far enough into the season they’d survived the onslaught of kids who laugh at stealing people’s pumpkins and smashing them in the street.
But when I checked, there were no gourd guts splattered all over the road.
There was, however, a garbage can pulled up to the curb.
No. Hubs wouldn’t…
Yes. Apparently Hubs would.
I’m not one to pull things out of garbage cans, usually. But these were two gorgeous globes of orange and yummy goodness. How could I not retrieve them? How could I just leave them, I ask you?
And now they are washed, cut up, and turning golden in the oven. Oh, my. There is a divine smell of pumpkin in the background hovering, lovering the air, as only baked goods know how to do.
Which leads me to think about will o’ the wisps. Which leads me to think about turnips vs. pumpkins. Which leads me to think about trucks and the size of various things. Compensation, and all that. What are we compensating for?
Maybe the better question is: Who are we compensating for?
If this is your food – your baked pumpkin slathered in butter and salt with a hint of sugar (or however you prefer to eat your squash) – what are your thoughts? I’d love to read them in the comments.
Moment of Magic: