Pumpkin picking has cemented itself in as a yearly family tradition.
All hunting on a field to succeed on our important mission.
All looking for the fanciest pumpkin this side of freezing cold Kent,
All wanting to be impressed with our purchase and feel our money well spent.
Some searching for the largest, others the most round.
Personally I hunt for the ugliest found on the ice covered ground.
This year I fancied a pumpkin covered in wobbly warts.
One I would love for it’s imperfections and characteristic faults.
I found one that was alone tossed to the side of the farm,
Which I picked up very quickly and out of immediate harm.
Trudging the rest of the field with my prized pumpkin in my tow,
Looking for the second best pumpkin for my son to try and hollow.
He picked a bog standard orange – like every supermarket stock,
But his cute little smile wasn’t one I wished to knock.
Following our morning on the farm we headed home to carve,
But first a order for our lunch to ensure we didn’t starve.
6 large pizzas and a handful of tasty sides,
Fuelled our afternoon of carving which we all took in our strides.
I first took my lid off then let my toddler messily de-string,
Before I sneakily took over and did my arty thing.
Thomas was my instruction and to “make it really cool”,
From my little cheeky three year old who isn’t quite a fool.
I took another chosen pumpkin which was grand and a gorgeous white,
And drew on a steam train much to my toddlers delight.
I carved very carefully and peeled off some of the pale skin,
Watching out the corner of my eye my son with his big cheesy smiling grin.
I finished it very carefully and placed a candle bright inside,
Then carried it slowly for a photograph in the damp and dark outside.
For more family days out check out my Days out guide which may inspire your next adventure.