This was the question whispered in my ear as I woke up this morning. We’ve been busy here with school and soccer and Pirates, so the pumpkins have been sitting out on the front steps, uncarved so far.
It’s 50 degrees and the wind is howling here this morning. I don’t love the chore of scooping the goopy, orange mush-guts, but it’s worth it to retrieve every seed for roasting (salt and a little olive oil, 30 minutes at 350 degrees = a crunchy, salty once-a-year snack that completely disappears from my kitchen before the seeds are even cool.)
So I suggested to Abby that maybe we should bring the pumpkins inside for a couple hours this morning, so that we can at least scoop the goop without risking frostbite. Hannah heard the plan, and was appalled at the idea of waiting such a long time before carving. She took an active role in hurrying things along.
Costume change 1, and Abby’s gourd gets in on the warming action. Please note the fluffy white earmuffs.
The final product; carved by Mom, supervised by Hannah. The pumpkin is the one on the right.
Arrr, tis’ time for the pirates t’ get har!
Abby (the one on the right) has been toiling away for the past month, rehearsing for the role of Child Pirate Ezekiel for a local production of The Pirates of Penzance. Her role is small, but she is very excited to be part of something that people are talking about.
The show opens tonight.
Abby’s goal is to avoid throwing up.
Nobody puked, and the show was great. Abby was not happy about having to dance with a boy — EW!!!! — in the last scene, but she muscled through it. I’ll post pictures as soon as I can upload them.
Sam entertained me throughout the show by asking if I had any tomatoes in my pocket. He wanted to throw them at the stage. We also won $70 in a raffle. When the raffle people moved on to draw the number for the next prize, Sam turned to me and said (loudly): “Who cares? We won the money!”
All is well in Penzance. And even though she’s not in the show, Hannah keeps telling me that she is the real Pirate King.
Arrrrrrrr! Rum all around.
Abby had a school assignment to write some statements describing herself. Here’s an excerpt from her verbal self-portrait:
- A cat lover
- A traveler
- A sister of Hannah and Sam
- A 9 year-old
- Sad when I don’t get candy
- A candy lover
- A happy person when I buy candy
In addition to the frightening prospect of the cost of future dental work, I wonder if Abby has stumbled upon a psychiatric truth. Is candy an anti-depressant? Is she actually unhappy when she doesn’t have any? Should I be worried about an addiction?
I haven’t been here since September 20th?? Aaacck, where’d I go?