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I never went to the pumpkin patch as a kid. I don’t think the big cardboard bins in front of King Soopers count. Now, grocery stores have to keep up with the pumpkin patch experience, so they’ve really spiced up the pumpkin area with hay bales, corn stalks and heirloom squash. Going to the pumpkin patch is only something I’ve started doing since I’ve had kids. And the first few times were in Hawaii. Hunting for pumpkins with Diamond Head in the distance is . . . different.

Monday, I accompanied Grace’s kindergarten class on their field trip to Schilter Farms. 28 hours later we were back with Jane and Kirk in tow. I left Jane’s shoe at the house, so the trip didn’t start off well. Out with the pumpkins (not on the vine, plucked from somewhere and I suspect not entirely from the farm) I just set Jane down and let her wander in her socks. She and Grace picked some good pumpkins, which we made Kirk push to the checkout in a wheelbarrow. He wouldn’t let me take a picture.

We also hit up the hay maze (BOO I am SO allergic to hay I’m still sneezing) and the petting zoo, where Jane didn’t want to pet the animals, but screamed “NO” anytime someone else did. All in all, I think it was a fun trip. I bet if you asked Kirk though, he’d disagree. Now, we just have to keep the damn raccoons from eating the pumpkins until the 31st.

Yeah, that's right. I put my baby down in a muddy field in her socks. Wanna start something?

This picture is cute, except for the fact that it illustrates Grace is only a little more than foot away from being taller than me.

Nothing says fall like ponies! Right! Right?

Here piggy piggy.

Pretty sure this is the Christmas Card photo. Check something else off my list!