debora-bora

rotting


i do the same damn thing every year: i buy the pumpkins because
otherwise i'm a bad mom. we have to carve the pumpkins. and inevitably i get
invited to the same pumpkin carving party every year, and drag 3 to 8 lbs. of orange squash
with me and my son.

and eventually - after the amazing yellow-squash soup and the wine and the small talk,
we carve the pumpkins.

it has got to be the messiest tradition ever. i mean, you make a sane choice to open the top
of a large gourd, and scoop out its innards: slime-covered seeds...by the frickin' hundereds. it's so annoying. really.
this part...the obligatory part of the pumpkin carving tradition, puts me in a slightly foul mood every year.

even when i didn't have a kid, and i was "foot-loose and fancy-free" i still went to pumpkin carving parties.
i can't explain this. it must stem from some deep sense of self-hatred, or something.

you're right - it's WAY passed Halloween. passed the carving of squash and dressing up and eating too
much candy. it's the tail-end of November. so why am i ranting about pumpkins NOW????

BECAUSE: one of my pumpkins - the 15 pounder that i picked out because i liked it's odd shape - that one...it's
still sitting outside my door.
except now it's growly face is sagging, and it's orange skin is covered in black-mildew blemishes. and it's oozing
something worse than the slime that once covered its seeds. it's just a time bomb mocking me. "hah! that's what
you get for skewing my innards!!! that'll teach you!!!! ah....sweet revenge...!!!!!!"

every year. it's the same thing. i let too much time pass, and i inevitably have to slurp-launch the festering
orange heap as carefully, and without any touch of femininity, into a large garbage bag.

every year.
happy thanksgiving. post.

deborah