(Silas calls them "clippers" and he should know, because he was in charge of handing them to me.)
It's my new favorite thing in the house and I'm not even close to being ready to take it down.
There's plenty of time for that.
paint-by-numbers. They still make me so happy.
And my 10-cent gourds are still fresh as a weirdo, bumpy-skinned daisy.
The foot turkeys? I can't compose myself enough to even talk about it.
I'm wading around in dashed-off grocery lists, debating the merits of various non-pie pumpkin baked goods and desserts.
It's full of promise but slow as a Sunday nap.
This is the season. This one, right here. It's where we are and it shouldn't be short-changed or over-shadowed. How can we possibly celebrate the day of gratitude when we're up on our tippy toes looking over its head?
I know most of you don't feel as strongly about this sort of thing. Seasonal allegiance is one of my spiritual gifts, that's all.
I promise I don't judge you early-Christmas-music listeners ducking your heads in shame. It's okay, lovies. Come on out behind that pre-Thanksgiving Christmas tree. We can surely live in harmony.
Just tell me this: Pumpkin coffee cake with brown sugar glaze? Pumpkin cream cake? Pumpkin cinnamon rolls with maple cream cheese frosting? Pumpkin scones with maple glaze?
Happy week-of, friends.
PS - I found the rad Grateful pumpkin print a few weeks ago in my friend Sasha's shop. I loved it immediately for its pure and simple sentiment. Annnnd, it's a fresh variation on all the typical orange. I tried to buy it but she got all rascally and sent it for free. Yeesh, my life is rough. She's got so many sweet goodies happening in her store and she's gracious enough to offer you guys 10% off anything you fancy with the code "flowerpatch". (The offer expires in one week and her shop closes for the holidays on Dec. 13th.)