He said, you want pumpkins? We'll send you pumpkins. Ever since we've called him mayor-peter-peter-pumpkin-sender,

This year the pumpkin crop was obliterated,

I named my pumpkin Bob. Bob can have a big smile or frown on his face, but only once. Bob like's October. Happy October Bob.

The pumpkin itself is a symbol for mortality.

The pumpkin itself is a symbol for mortality. Like mortals, the pumpkin seed is planted in the darkness of the earth, where it is left to search for the light. When the plant finally sprouts, it travels along the ground, as if in search of its place in the world. Then, once the pumpkin has found its place, it blossoms into a fruit that towers above all others. And when the pumpkin is ripe, it's a veritable life-giving force.

Why not imagine a talk with a pumpkin? Why not imagine going off for a drive with a friendly pumpkin, a companion who would not, after all, answer back; who would agree with everything you said, and would at the end of the day appear on your plate as a final gesture of friendship?