There was that one year we drove 100 miles for the privilege of cutting down our very own Christmas tree. That was the year we discovered that the pine trees grown for self-harvesting yuletide tradition in Southern California should more accurately be referred to as shrubbery.
Alas, times have changed. But we still try to impart a fair amount of ritual to our seasonal traditions. Getting our Halloween pumpkins is the official beginning of our holiday season. Last weekend, one neighbor bought some lovely little Jack-O-Lanterns-to-be from an independent local lot. Aside from a wide variety of organically grown pumpkins to choose from, they got the added benefit of a scary maze and a petting zoo with porcupines and ducks and boars, oh my. Grand total — $100.
Another neighbor came home shortly thereafter with two pumpkins, each the size of a Volkswagen Bug.
"Eight dollars," she told us as she struggled with her wheelbarrow. "Buy one, get one free at the supermarket."
"Get in the car, kids!" I hollered. Nothing says holiday tradition like a trip to Pavilions.
Though I like to wander rows of farmland searching for that special gourd that speaks to me like a virgin piece of marble does to Michelangelo, there is something so contenting about reaching into a 6-by-6-foot cardboard bin stacked chest-high with pumpkins and claiming the first one you can pull out. What in the past meant hours of indecision for an 8-year-old, is reduced to this simple rule: If you can reach it and lift it into the cart, that's the one.
The selection and purchase of the Halloween costume is of equal importance. Thing 1 and Thing 2 have been considering this since Nov. 1 last year. The last few months have been spent perusing catalogs, reviewing trends and analyzing popularity indexes like pork belly futures.