I have always loved both summer and fall, and here in San Diego the difference between the two is subtle at this time of year. With temperatures well in to the nineties most days, it’s hard to believe summer is really over.
This weekend we made our annual trip up to Bates Nut Farm in Valley Center. The boys climbed on tractors. We fed the alpacas, goats, and sheep, delighted by the soft lips nuzzling the palms of our hands for every last kernel of corn.
We admired beautiful quilts made by women using antique hand-crank sewing machines, and sampled decadent peanut-butter-and-chocolate-swirl fudge.
As the morning edged from warm to sweltering, we were met with a most welcome surprise—one of our local ice cream parlors had a booth, and so we bought two cups of the most delicious handmade chocolate ice cream—such a perfect treat for such a hot morning.
And of course the pumpkins! Fields of pumpkins straight out of a fairy tale in every shape and size. Pumpkins as big as a wheelbarrow, and piles of round, fat, bright orange, jack-o-lantern pumpkins. Stacks of short, squashed-looking cinderella pumpkins in shades that ranged from bright orange to soft white, dusty brown-orange, and even a deep green. Bales of hay propped up bins of dried corn, and there were gigantic boxes piled high with all sorts of different gourds and squash.
The boys chose the sweetest little striped pumpkins this year, and spent the drive home hugging them.
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