Five Lil' Punkins

I am still suffering with a severe case of writer's block. It's certainly NOT due to a lack of embarrassing stories, nor a shortage of awkward public encounters, all of which The Storm is fully responsible. As much as I would like to report they have turned into little angels, (who keep their mouths SHUT in public) I'm afraid it's simply my brain that is refusing to function. Writing complete sentences has become quite a struggle, and I'm really tired of it. The writer's block, I mean. Blogging has been such a fun outlet for me these past two years, so I hate to let it fall to the wayside. (Or is it waste side? Waist side is more like it for me here lately. Pretty much everything has fallen or is in the process of falling to my waist side. Sigh.)

My brain is oatmeal though, even when I can think clearly and write freely, so if I don't hurry up and write about our annual pilgrimage to the local pumpkin patch, I'll forget about it completely. This should be a super easy one though, since it's mostly just pictures for my family that couldn't be here to go with us. Man how I wish we all lived closer together. But then, we would probably just take the convenience of getting together for granted, and life would get in the way, and before we knew it, we would only be getting together for holidays and a few other random times each year, which is what we already do anyway, so I guess I'll take what I can get.

So, fam who couldn't be here to go with us... Here are our pictures...

Blogger is being difficult and acting much like my stubborn three year old. For some reason, it's not allowing me to center my pictures the way I would like, or put them two to a line. Grrrr. Sometimes I hate com-pooters. And it's not allowing me to write captions at the moment either. Uggh. So, I'll just write them all here, and you can guess which pic I'm referring to. Oh, this will be fun! Like a name that picture game! See, I can be a glass half full kinda girl.

Let me start off by saying, yes we are aware of Hail's desperate need for a haircut. We've been calling him Willy Wonka. At times he allows me to brush it, and then it curls up super cute, like my Daddy's, so I really hate the thought of cutting it. But, he's past due for a trim at the very least.

Flash Flood loved all the animals we saw in the barn. He kept making this funny grunting sound as he panted heavily. I'm guessing he thought he was making an animal noise of some kind.

Lightning loved holding and petting every animal he could get his hands on. And would sit still petting them until I would suggest we move along to the next stall. He's such a patient and sweet kid. I tell him all the time that I bet he grows up to be a Veterinarian. He usually replies, "Yep! And I'm gonna be a docta and a cowboy and a powice man and a basebaw pwaya and a fishaman and a mail man and a twuck dwiva and a teacha and a farma and a....."

Hail (aka: Willy Wonka) wasn't quite sure if he wanted to hold a bunny wabbit or not. Finally, the farmer in the barn assured him he could "git 'em a sweet 'un" so Hail held out his arms. The sweet 'un the farmer found was a large adult rabbit though, which was not quite what Hail had in mind. As the giant white bunny with red eyes was lowered into Hail's lap, he began to squeal, "I wanna baby one! I wanna baby! I wanna baby ONE! DAT'S A BIG ONE! DAT'S A BIG ONE! IT'S GOT WED EYES! IT'S GOT WED EYES!!!" The farmer laughed, and plopped ole' red eyes down anyway. Hail "accidentally" dropped it four seconds later.

Thunder thought his rabbit died because it put it's head back and closed it's eyes. "Umm, Momma. MOMMA! Why is he dead??" Those poor bunnies. They get held and loved and dropped so many times that he was probably doing some wishful thinking.

All the kids piled on the tractor for what I thought would be a cute photo opp. WRONG. The Storm has decided taking pictures is D-U-M-dumb. Thunder thinks he's cool because he can kinda spell now. Sigh.

There was a corn grinder machine thingy that all the kids got to try. I asked Her Highness if she felt like Laura Ingalls and how fun would it be if she had to get up at sunrise every morning and do that chore for three solid hours. You can see her thoughts on the matter written all over her face. She was pretty proud of her clean corncob though.

After everyone found the perfect pumpkins, we decided to call it a day. Just like last year, we had a super fun time. A tradition we look forward to keeping.

Happy Punkin Patching to you!