Page 12. The hunt


So now I wonder as I have said just what all these things could mean. For a fact this woman has one thing that I do not; a stomach made of pure cast iron, for it did not make her sick to eat, the blue the green white hairy thing.

 However just to please me, she picked up the offending pie, went to the trash and dumped it in, that is just after she ate bite four. I do perhaps still wonder if; she has a sense of taste. For this I do conclude, she has no sense of smell!

 

Pumpkins, photographed in Canada.

Pumpkins, photographed in Canada. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Practice does make perfect after many years:

 

Ghost goblins and pappy’s words of :

Now this woman, who raised me, enjoyed another pastime, each year she would take a chosen few to the pumpkin patch. Now I was never asked she excluded me seemed the quest was just for girls a form of bonding. Of the girls she would choose; the oldest two would then prepare their dress and discuss the plan. Now one must understand this was a right of passage, something that had taken place for many, many years. There were times when I would over hear her talking on the phone with one of the older girls. Who would later acknowledge they two were part of these midnight raids.  So on the night then chosen, mom and her accomplices, would have what then was called a sleep over with usually little asleep.

Pappy never knew when they would make their raids, but the evidence would turn up within the trunk or spread out on the porch. Sometime we would over hear how they nearly had been caught. Laughing and a giggling they were oh so very proud.  They always collected the very, very best. Each niece and nephew got a prize from the midnight raid. They also made from those not presented at the end a lot of pumpkin pies. Yes, my sweet mother led a gang of pumpkin thief’s.  The evidence would always disappear and it tasted pretty good.  I found out many years later, that pappy went and paid for every pumpkin  that was taken.

(Dysfunctional as he was)

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