How can you not love a pumpkin? I mean, look at them. The colors, the shapes, the stripes. Technically these are gourds, but gourds, pumpkins, and squash are all part of the same family so that’s close enough for me. In Connecticut where I grew up and spent most of my life, a lot of people carve pumpkins and set them outside on their front porches or steps, often with a battery-operated candle inside so they glow at night. In Florida where I’ve lived for the past 28 years, however, it’s too hot in October to keep a pumpkin outside. It’s too hot in November to keep a pumpkin outside. They just don’t last. So, I satisfy my autumnal urge by putting fall wreaths on our front doors and keeping some little pumpkins (gourds?) inside.

When our daughter was a child, we’d buy a pumpkin and she’d draw the eyes, nose, and mouth/teeth. My husband or I would carve the pumpkin to make the face. The process was thesame when I was a kid. My dad carved the face that I drew. My mom kept the pumpkin we scooped out and made a pie. She was a great cook and a terrific baker. She baked everything from scratch, a tradition she passed on to me. Thinking about this is making me hungry for pumpkin pie. I think I’ll buy a real pumpkin (not a gourd) as we get closer to Thanksgiving so I can make one.