Each year we go to a pumpkin patch with Grandma. This year we went down the street from their house to Kerry's Pumpkin Patch. There's a play area for the kids, a small corn maze, and a few animals to see.




When you're done with all that, you hop on a tractor-drawn wagon to go to the pumpkin patch, where the pumpkins have mysteriously all fallen off the vine. In fact, there were no vines when we went through, just lots of pumpkins sitting in neat little rows in a field.


When we bring the pumpkins home, each year Mike has a comment about rotting pumpkins. (He's never let me live down the couple of years where December arrived and we still had pumpkins sitting on our porch.) Good times!