Un-pumpkin patch

We have a tradition every year of going to pick out our pumpkins from a real farm (and usually, the pumpkins are covered in mud, considering we've lived in the Pacific NW all our lives).  So, we asked around and consulted Google, and decided on Cox Farms, not too far from our house (really, the name had nothing to do with it!).  Jack had homework, and by homework, I mean he was too cool to go to a pumpkin patch with the hideous creatures known as his family.  And so, we set out on a bazillion degree day.  Seriously, it was in the 90s, which has traditionally not been part of our pumpking picking experience, but hey, no mud!

There was a line of cars about 2 miles long to get in, but we finally were able to park and pay our $15 per person (including pumpkin!).  Only.  There was no pumpkin patch.  Just a bunch of bins from which to pick out a small pumpkin on your way out.  We quickly realized we were at more of an amusement park than a pumpking patch.  There were many, many slides with long lines of hot, sweaty kids.  A bumpy hayride (by far my kids' favorite thing), baby pigs, goats, turkeys, chickens, and cows.  And a pretty terrible live band.  I think the kids had a fairly good time, and we're getting so used to not having our traditions 'just so' with this new lifestyle, we were fine with it.  Mitch was able to buy a giant pumpkin on the way out.  I picked out some butternut squash instead of a little pumpkin, to make squash risotto. Or soup.  Or maybe, so I can forget about it and throw it out next month.  Whatever.


Mitch refused to take my picture under this sign. 



Practicing milking a fake cow, although they soon were squirting each other in the face with the udders.

One of the many slides around the farm

You can buy a cone full of goat food to feed the goats with.  Genius!

Hayride