Wednesday, October 17, 2007

A perturbed pumpkin

Dear Invisible Friends,

In honor of Halloween, there will be at least 4 Halloween posts within the next two weeks. The Pond has been decorated, pumpkins have been purchased and the spiders have been freed. (Fuzzy the Spider wants you to know he's already claimed the patio table.) And yes, one of the posts will be about the animals in the Land of the Flowered Bed. Enjoy!

Love,

The Blond Duck


A Perturbed Pumpkin
"Look at them," he huffed, watching doting parents and their excited children skip around the pumpkin lot. "Like feral cats, they are."
He watched as toddlers climbed haystacks and knocked over carefully arranged displays of stuffed scarecrows and gourds.
"Those are for photos!" he bellowed. "For parents to appreciate the experience! This is not a playground!"
The parents ignored him, letting their children run wild. Shrieks cut through the warm fall air. He watched carefully, keeping a mental note in his head of which pumpkins were chosen. One couple came to the table, holding two large pumpkins.
"The large ones are $5," he said as the man handed the money to his assistant. "Thank you. Have a nice day." Letting the sun warm his face, he sighed. He loved Halloween. He just didn't like kids and Halloween.
"You know, this really is quite unfair," he said to his assistant, who was beginning to doze.
"Pumpkins spend all year growing slowly, being watered and nurtured into nice fat, ascetically-pleasing vegetables. Then they are plucked from their vines and thrown into boxes, where they are driven to grocery stores or markets. From there, they're either plucked out of a box, thrown on the floor by a clumsy child or wind up in a grocery cart to be taken home. Once they arrive, they're not safe at all! They're either mutilated into poor carvings and gutted or made into a pie!"
He eyed some children running and yelled for them to stop.
"Why not tomatoes?" he pondered. "Or bananas? They don't have any feelings. Why pumpkins?" Another family came to the register, and he dictated to his assistant that they owed $15.
"You know, pumpkins are only appreciated two months out of the year," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe three. Do you see anything wrong with that? We have much better nutrition than an apple. And people go nuts for those all year long."
"He's so beautiful!" a woman gasped, coming up to the counter. "You must be so proud!"
"We are," the man beamed. "He's our big star."
"It's not hard in this group," he sighed dramatically. "Seriously, it's not."
The sun went down, and the excited shrieks of children faded. The man packed up the zippered coin purse and picked up his clipboard.
"See you tomorrow," the man smiled. "Guard the place for me."
Relishing in the quiet, the pumpkin stared warily from his table, guarding his pumpkin patch domain. At least he was appreciated.