As Halloween drew closer and blog photoshoots called, Liam and I purchased two Pumpkins two weeks ago. We slaved over them, opened them, emptied them and cut them until they were what we wanted them to be.
They sat proudly in our living room, smiling and staring up at us each evening as we watched television together, as we typed furiously on our laptops side-by-side and as we trailed between the living room and kitchen slaving over dinner after dinner.
Neither of them asked for much. Just a place to live, the warmth and a lit tea light every once in a while. We took them for granted. A week after their inception, they were required, once again, to take part in a blog photoshoot. But this time it was different. This time they would be venturing outside for the first time.
The two of them had, unfortunately, been emitting an odour for some time now and upon picking them up, and closer inspection, I noticed they had formed a soft furry layer inside of their heads. It was settled. We would leave them to live a life of solitude once the photoshoot was completed.
Liam, and me, and the two Pumpkins had a lovely morning out. They felt alive, and free, in the air. But it took its toll too, and they were cold and ready to be snuggled up back in our cosy living room. We placed them on a wall, which we’d both agreed would be their final resting place. With some reservations, we left them – assuming some local teenagers would probably smush them at some point.
In the car, on the way home, Liam asked me if I thought they were wandering when we were coming back. That’s when it all started…
We spent the next evening guilt ridden, wondering what they were doing, if they’d been smushed yet, if they’d gotten used to the cold, if they resented us now. We’d brought them into our world, our warm home, and then cast them asunder. They were after all, as Liam pointed out, our children. We had ‘birthed’ them. We had picked them out of hundreds, and moulded them into the Pumpkins they were.
That evening, driving home from a visit to my parents, we discussed heading back there to collect them. Bearing in mind ‘there’, in this case, was an English Heritage site some 20 minutes down the road. It was also now 9pm at night. All things considered, we decided no, we would not be doing this.
But the next day, however, we did do something unheard of. We set the alarm ON A SUNDAY and we headed out to find them. On the journey there we were full of trepidation. What if they were gone? What if they’d fallen from the wall and broken their heads open? What if local kids had smushed them?!
On the long path up to the ancient nunnery we pondered what fate had befouled them. But we turned the corner, and there they were! Smiling back at us. Big Pump looked happier and more excited than ever, Little Pump looked pretty frickin’ angry. Fortunately, all was forgiven when we placed them in our bag-for-life and were on our merry way with them back to their real home.
Now it’s been a week since their night in the wilderness, and all’s been forgiven. Our little Pump’s now live outside on our porch, looking out for each of our cars to pull into the drive each evening. So, I hope you enjoyed our Tale of Two Pumpkins – otherwise known as why Hazel and Liam can’t have nice things. That’s right – we get overly attached to inanimate objects.
And now, onto a guest poem by none other than Liam himself.
One cloudy night near Halloween
Two pumpkins came on to the scene
With knife and spoon we were completed
Now here’s our tale, you’d best stay seated
At first our life was full of glee
A fireside spot, a big TV
You’d say us pumpkins had it good
You’d think we’re lucky, you really would
But then one day our lives were shattered
Taken from home and all that mattered
Into the car and far away
We hoped a hope, we prayed a pray
Please let it be warm, my pumpkin friend wept
It won’t be I thought, now it’s time to accept.
In an old ancient ruins we were left on a wall
This place was sure spooky, probably home to a ghoul
As night time crept up on us, there in the glade
We suddenly realised, that we weren’t afraid
We’d survived the night, us brave little pumpkins
In the scariest of places, now isn’t that something?
Now to finish our story, this fills me with pride
Our parents returned us to their fireside
It all just got a bit weird there, didn’t it?!
Find me here!