The most wonderful time of the year is in full swing. Halloween decor has sat atop the shelves at the pharmacies and discount stores for a full month now. In just a couple short weeks it will be all shoved into the carts sitting near the registers begging for your mercy with brightly colored discount stickers. But don’t feel badly, because at this point there will be Christmas supplies to ooh and aah over. And you will. Even if you are the type who believes the season should last two weeks and be done with. And you people bother me by the way. I never ever say nasty things here, but now I will: LET US WHO LOVE ALL HOLIDAY MAGIC HAVE IT! Please stop complaining that the Christmas lights are up after January 1st. Would you rather there were Valentines lights that replaced them? And in this area of the nation where there is snow for so many months of the year, the lights look terrific even in March. I mean, they are lights. LIGHTS. Don’t curse the sight of beauty in it’s purest form.
OK. Rant over. I have decided that this year instead of creating a list of holiday fun that I must complete I will just choose one thing every weekend to do. This way I have one task a week. And it will be something I love to do. This weekend it was Pumpkins. I went to Kawalski’s with my son and told him he could pick out whatever pumpkin he wanted. So, I had to lug the largest pumpkin in all of Saint Paul down the street, because of course there would not be parking near my front door today, then up two flights of stairs. And THEN, we carved
Now, I am all for traditional looking jack-o-lanterns. This would be because I have no artistic skill when it comes to stabbing vegetables. So, we did the triangular eyes and jagged mouths.
And the seeds, oh the seeds. I made three pans with the two pumpkins that we carved. (I of course had to get one for myself) Well, here’s the pictorial evidence of my first weekend of holiday fun.
And just so YOU know. Holidazzle is 41 days away and last year opening night was unseasonably warm and we had a blast, so go this year with us and it will be even better. I don’t know why better, but anyhow. Come, yes you. You internet people you.
The Pilver 
Those are the greatest pumpkins I have seen to date. How sincere! I think The Great Pumpkin shall be kind to you and Max this year.
By the way, does the one on the right have ears?
Yes, very observant of you. Those are ears indeed!
I will allow all you people who love the holidays to love them if people will stop clogging up every store in sight buying useless crap for their families who don’t need it and getting in my way when I just need to quick buy some pants for work. OUT OF MY WAY, TWO DOZEN SLOW OLD LADIES, I’VE GOT THINGS TO DO!
It’s not even November yet, and I’m already irritated.
Kick ass pumpkins, though. The one on the right looks vaguely like my dad, which is weird…
When did you start wearing pants?
Ah, I am not funny, I slept for a year last night and am feeling a bit on fire today.
Hey, cute picture of you with the jack-o’-lanterns (you’re in the back row, right?).
I hate to rain on your Holidazzle parade, but you are forgetting the victims. I worked for one year at the Au Bon Pain in the IDS building. Nothing was more annoying than the nightly rush of Hollidazzlers. Cookies I could just put on the tray. Soups I just had to scoop into the tubs (except during the short-lived bread-bowl fiasco). Even sandwiches I just had to punch into the cash register to be sent down the line to Jen or Howard. But, of course, two hundred Hollidazzlers each only order a hot chocolate, latte, or cappuccino, which I had to make myself. “Sorry, sir, I am making fourteen hot chocolates as fast as I can. If you would like to warm up sooner, I can suggest another orifice you can stick your hot cocoa in.”
On another note, thanks for the previous high school yearbook entry. Um, it made me smile.
Joe-
I am sorry for your frustration in dealing with us holidazzlers. Holidazzlers is a great new word, by the way.
And I noticed from looking back that your brother is sitting there in the wrestling picture with a penned smile. Ah, Fourth. Paul Carey, by the way, wrote one of those thingys. Do you ever talk to him anymore?
Sorry, I haven’t had any contact to speak of with Paul since high school. Yes, ah, Fourth. Now let us never speak of it again.