Last night, I carved a pumpkin. This sounds strange, but the vibrancy of the orange made me so happy, like there's something about that color that makes like better.
I was driving down Fairfax County Parkway the other day and the color of the leaves was mezmorizing. I do love this place. I love the outdoors around here, and that fall actually happens; it doesn't go from summer to winter. Fall is beautiful, and there's nothing I enjoy more than colors. I should've been an interior decorator or something. Somthing that would've given me a few more useful life skills than a degree in political science. Though I am so thankful... And I digress.
I carved a face in the pumpkin and it looks goofy, like a child carved it. I cut one of the teeth too thin in the smile and and it fell off. I saved all the seeds; I plan to roast them and eat them for a snack until they're all gone. Reminds me of home, and all the things my mom used to do with the pumpkins we'd carve. I wonder if I'll do those things with my kids. If I'll make home-made pumpkin pie or roast pumpkin seeds or carve faces and paint them and dress them up and take them trick-or-treating. I wonder if I'll be so corporately calloused by the time I have kids that I don't remember how to be a good mother. Ugh. Digressing again.
I named my pumpkin "Kramer," because it looks to ridiculous and the only ridiculous thing that came to mind at 11 pm was Kramer from "Seinfeld." So Kramer the pumpkin is sitting at home, alone, while I'm off blogging about him.
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