Happy Pumpkin Carving!

I'm spying on my neighbor. Well, actually, I am sitting at my desk, and it just so happens that from my window I can see into my neighbors back yard. He is carving pumpkins. There are five pumpkins on the table and he is scraping them out, but he is all alone in the back yard, which confuses me. Why would you carve pumpkins alone? That's really a social activity... I would never carve a pumpkin alone. To be completely honest, I barely want to carve pumpkins at all.

Since I was a kid, I have always hated the insides of pumpkins. It is disgusting in there. Trying to rip out the slimy innards make me feel like I am violating the pumpkins' wishes by tearing out its guts and babies. Also, the slime makes me cringe, and I hate touching it. I always need to use a spoon. Even then, the back of my hand sometimes touches the guts and then when I get it out I have to separate the seeds from it. It's terribly unpleasant.

So then after the pumpkin has been GUTTED, we carve designs into it. We try to get creative but usually fail, because sticking a knife into a squash is hard enough, and then maneuvering it around to actually create some sort of recognizable image is pretty much a success in itself. PS who came up with this idea? We seem to have a surprising amount of pagan rituals in our society that likes to think it is puritan.

Anyways, I feel better about this part of the process than the gutting part. At least I get to use a knife in a creative way, how often do we get to do that?

Yesterday Julie and I carved pumpkins. We put down some paper in my backyard, grabbed some knives and spoons (for me), a bowl for the pumpkin seeds, and some pumpkin ale for the occasion. I looked at the bowl.
"That's not a big enough bowl for all the seeds." I note.
"Yeah it is." Julie replies.
"No it's not! We are gonna have way more than that."
"Wanna bet?"
"Yes."
"Okay I bet you a shot of gin that this bowl will hold all the pumpkin seeds."
"Done."

So we carve out the tops of the pumpkins and begin the excavation of slime. I use my spoon, but Julie just dives right in with her hands. I can tell she was the kind of kid that played with the slime more than she cared about any other part of the pumpkin carving process. She probably threw the slime at people who annoyed her. I can just see it.

So the bowl starts filling up with seeds. More, and more, and more. I even put in the lame, not fully grown seeds because I can tell that I'm losing. This bowl probably WILL hold all the seeds. And Julie is right. When we get to the end, the seeds are about a half an inch below the rim of the bowl.
"Damn. You were right." I say.
"I know. I'm a really good judge of space." Julie shrugs. I stare at her.

It takes me awhile to figure out what I'm going to carve on my emptied pumpkin. Julie has her phone out and is googling images of jack-o-lanterns. "How the hell am I supposed to carve THAT?! How are people so artistic?" She shakes her head and continues to search on her phone for something suitable. I just stare at my pumpkin. What do you want to be? A face? A design? What face, or what design? Speak to me, gourd!

Julie finds something and soon she is totally focused on her carving. I am still staring at my pumpkin. As I'm brainstorming different ideas, Julie asks, "So, can you eat pumpkin?"
"Umm... yes. We eat pumpkin pies."
"I know, but can pumpkins be more than pies?"
"I don't know. I suppose so."
"How would you cook it?" Julie ponders.
"I don't know." I repeat.
"Maybe you can grill it or something. Why do we only eat pumpkins in the fall?"
"Because they're a seasonal thing, I guess."
"Why is no one in February like, 'So for dinner tonight we are going to have some chicken with a side of pumpkin.'"
"Uhh..."
Julie is still focusing on carving her pumpkin but I can see her eyebrows knit in contemplation. This is really baffling her. I take a drink of my pumpkin ale, have an idea, and start carving.

After a few minutes, I ask Julie, "What are you carving?"
"An owl. I found it online. What are YOU carving?"
"An ocean."
She looks up from her owl. "... ohh... okay..." She says, raising her eyebrows.
"Shut up." I tell her, and continue with my idea.

When we were done, hers was cute and did look like an owl. Mine looked ridiculous. I carved four waves on each side of the pumpkin, and then added a V that kind of looked like a bird in between two of the waves. I thought my mom would like it, at least. It's not often that you see an ocean on a pumpkin.

We take our pumpkins to the front of the house and set them up on the railing. "Claire!" I call. "Do you have any candles we can stick inside our pumpkins?"
"I think so! Let me check." She says, and minutes later she comes out with two tea candles.
"Can you tell what they are?" I ask, and Julie turns to look at Claire too, waiting.
"Of course I can. Julie's is an owl. And Ashley's is some stylized waves with a bird."
"... You knew." I say, crossing my arms. She must have heard us talking.
"Well, yes. But I would have been able to guess even if I hadn't known before!"
Julie and I look at each other. "Oh well Julie! Our pumpkins are awesome." I say, and nod to each other. Claire runs down into the yard.
"Ashley, turn your pumpkin a little bit, it kind of looks like boobs from here."
"Okay, which way?" I do not want my pumpkin to be mistaken for four boobs.
"A little to the left... a little more... there!" And nods her head in satisfaction.

She comes back up to the porch and we light the candles. "Oww, I probably should have lit the candle AFTER I put it in the pumpkin." Claire says wisely as she burns her hand. I shoved my candle in through a wave to the center, then stuck the lighter in and lit it. And you know, even if a pumpkin is ridiculously carved, everything looks cool with a candle glowing from its hollowed insides.