The Effing Pumpkin Patch
I was raised mostly in Southern California. Where I lived, there were vast fields of strawberries and thick orange groves that would perfume the whole city during orange blossom season. We would throw open the windows at night to inhale the sweet balm of nascent citrus. The smell was intoxicating.
Then it was all bulldozed and replaced with a few hundred strip malls, gas stations, freeway overpasses and overpriced cookie-cutter homes. Because that’s how people in the O.C. roll, bitches.
Anything nature-y or farm-y or down-home-y is very foreign to me. I was pretty shocked when I moved to Florida. There’s, like, green stuff here. Endless stretches of flat, verdant land, thick swamps, Spanish moss swaying from ancient cypress trees.
What struck me as much as the landscape was the people. Let me tell you, anyone who thinks Florida isn’t part of the American South is very, very wrong. I thought big-wheeled Chevys with Confederate flags and gun racks were the things of an Alabama or a Texas. Now I know.
Anyway. To the subject of this blog post: The Effing Pumpkin Patch.
The Effing Pumpkin Patch was my idea. I figured, now that we have kids, we need to do things like go to The Effing Pumpkin Patch and take some effing pictures. I found out about a popular one out in BFE (and believe it or not, no matter where you are in Florida, you can get to a local BFE in an hour or less). So we went.
The directions to get to BFE were simple enough. But with me driving, we did no fewer than 1,800 u-turns before we finally got on track down a two-lane rural road — and promptly screeched to a halt. There was a bloody accident, followed by a slow-moving line of cars filing into a giant field to park. It took half an hour before we got to the farm.
The Effing Pumpkin Patch was, in a word, PACKED. Like, nutso, OMFG claustrophobia, 40-minute line for a pulled pork sandwich, I hate this fucking stroller, will-you-please-get-the-fuck-out-of-my-WAY packed.
I love parties, but I hate giant, overwhelming crowds. I get incredibly impatient and grumble obscenities at old people. It’s just not pretty.
So yeah. I hated every second of it, from the moment we entered BFE to the glorious second we finally pulled away from the burning armpit of hell.
If you’re not feeling me yet, take a look at the line to exit the farm.
You can’t see the end, can you? That’s because it it goes allllllll the way to the edge of the field, then wraps allllllll the way back to the front to dump you out onto the two-lane country road.
Kinda makes you want to run someone over, doesn’t it?
Oh, and about the whole Florida-is-the-South thing?
Dude on a tall unicycle made to look like he’s riding a horse? Check.
Scarecrow family sitting on a barn? Check.
Emaciated donkey ass? Check.
Confederate flag on a Dodge? Ding ding ding!
For as long as I live, I will never go to another pumpkin patch. Ever.
Then again, I guess there were a few highlights.
10 comments
Bonita excursion…Videos de mis “sobris” andando YA!!!Y mandame tu dirección porfa
haaaa we never went
Ah, the Confederate window plate. I guess a confederate flag on the emaciated donkey ass (!) would have been worse. Good call saving the pics of the girls for the end–they definitely counteract the confederacy.
I can’t wait until we go back next year!
If you’re ever up here in the midwest, I can offer hospitality (including wine) and a plethora of choices on pumpkin patches to attend.
Oh, and a suggestion, if you can, avoid a weekend visit. They’re always packed.
AHHH. First mistake was going the last Saturday before Halloween. Go early in Oct to avoid the crowd. You will have to go again that girls will love it and that is the point. My 9 year old lives for our patch day.I for one could really care less a but they do make some of the most wonderful pics.
wait a sec, you seem to have forgotten the smell of the orange orchards right after they are fertelized. Yuck! My HS was surrounded by them. The smell of cookie cutter houses is very nice in comparison.
As for the pumpkin patch? OK, that was a stupid move. Next time, buy some from the grocery store or local church youth group and put them in your yard by a tree and snap away. The pics will turn out better and no headache involved. I just spent the weekend before halloween trying to get a 3yr old to pick out a costume at overly populated stores that he will refuse to wear next week. Also a stupid move!
You want it, you got it (in reference to your request that if read, I should comment)
Your babies are beautiful! Mine are 15 and 12 these days, and Elise and Althea *almost* make me want to have another.
Almost.
And if people make stupid comments about your twins, you have leave to smack them as many times as you wish.
It probably seems odd that someone you have never met, and will probably never meet, is commenting on your blog. It’s the miracle of the internet, I tell you.
You write well, you snark beautifully, and I can sympathize with the weirdness of dealing with being a full time mother v. wanting adult conversation. I’m going to stick around and read for a while, if you don’t mind. It reminds me of when mine were little, although I had mine one at a time so it is really in no way similar to having twins. Really.
That last photo is so. completely. freakin. adorable.
Yea, I pretty much would have left the event as soon as I saw a bagillion cars. I don’t do crowds like that very well.
Looks like it would have been a blast though. Did you get a pumpkin, and was that the ONLY pumpkin patch in your area?
I live in the mid-west and there are like a dozen within 10 miles of here. When we went to the pumpkin patch, I think we were the only ones there. It was nice.
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