Pumpkin

I like pumpkins. I like selecting them. I like trying to lift as many as I can at one time to make me feel like Popeye. I like carving them. Mostly, I like to eat them. In pies, drinks, cakes, breads, muffins, soups, etc. This year, I decided to give making my own puree a shot. Here's what I did. Be impressed.

  

Step 1: Top off. The pumpkins top, though if you're feeling slightly warm, you can remove your own as well.

Step 2: Make your Mother-in-Law remove all of the stringy bits, aka the nasties. Then, scrape the insides of your pumpkin and separate out the meat from the seeds.

Step 3: Bag them and place them in the fridge, then go straight to Google because you are not sure what comes next.

Step 4: Per Goggle, place the meat on a foil covered baking sheet and cook at 350 degrees until it becomes what they called "fork tender." which means really soft. I think. 

Step 5: Look at it.

Step 6: Place your soft pumpkin stuff into a Food Processor that is straight from the 1950's.  Then, take this outside as your child is finally napping and NOTHING needs to ever change that. Line up your shot perfectly, like I did, with your husbands old riffle for added warmth and color.

Step 7: Come back inside and start bagging up your "way to go, you actually nailed it" puree into baggies, containing 1 cup each for easy measuring out later.

Step 8: Look at it. Be proud. Then place it in the freezer and google Pinterest recipes like I currently am doing as I have yet to sign up for that site out of some kind of weird spite that is really, really hard to explain. But it's definitely ok to lurk on it from time to time and get ideas.

(And yes, our pumpkin in the background was not so much carved this year as it was more-so drilled. I wanted to take it out back and shoot it repeatedly for this effect, but the drill idea won out. Looks pretty good at night, I must admit. And also, another yes, that artwork on the fridge from my son does indeed feature two little purple colored DeVore children. We have no announcements to make yet at this time, but his urging for a sibling is being received loud and clear.)

Fall kinda

Fall in Florida is not the same as Fall in Upstate NY, or even in NYC, where Central Park takes on the characteristics of a field upstate, but if I can, at the least, walk outside and think, yes, yoga pants and a hoodie actually make sense for me to wear all day today and I'll look like I'm dressing for the weather, not for laziness, then I'm good. We took the kid and some friends out to an organic farm about an hour north of here this weekend to get our pumpkins and to get a sense of the fact that seasons had actually changed. Being on a farm feels more like Fall than being on our typical beach. Here are a few random pictures from the day.

 

Cheater..

                                     

"I huggy de pumkins mommy"

This cute guy was a storyteller 

While this picture was being taken, an elderly creeper was telling me how wonderful my own "homegrown pumpkins" looked. I'm so glad that a nearby friend overheard, because no one is ever around when I am being messed with usually.

My heart.

Beautiful "Fall" day.

Michael and Megan

When my father remarried roughly 15 years ago, two step-siblings came along with the deal. I gained an older brother, Michael Hallam, and a younger sister, Catherine Hallam. This weekend, we gained yet another family member, as Michael married his love, Megan. Megan is the social to my brothers calm. She brings out the best in him and he in her, and for that, I am happy. Plus, I have never seen Michael smile as big as he does whenever she is near. It's pretty sweet. By the way, to the right of this outdoors ceremony was a huge senior citizens luau, where sweet little ladies adorned grass skirts over their pleated chinos while dancing to Hawaiian music underneath tropical colored tents, and to the left, a blacksmiths convention and party was taking place, complete with bonfires, hammers, metal creations, and many, many, manly men. Michael Hallam, you lied-your city of Ocala is bumping with activities.

My boy chose to sit in the front row, away from us, with my dad, his "andpa." You can see the smoky haze from the blacksmiths bonfires in the background.

Michael helping his bride down from her carriage.

Buddy the horse, right before he ate my shoulder.

Those DeVore people

Three generations of large Buckmaster foreheads. 

MacPherson is easily entertained. I'm so thankful for his quiet, happy little spirit

Oh....little blonde girls help too. See my son in the distance, now sitting at a new table with a new family? Yep. They had a blonde daughter. See you later, kid.

Individual wedding pies. Yes please. 

Michael and Megan, we love you both. And Megan, make me more pies.

Beach and Botch

I love saltwater and the sound of waves, have I already mentioned this?

Friday the boy and I hit up Clearwater Beach with a few others.

On Saturday, we three DeVos took a trip out to Howard Park in Tarpon Springs for a bit more beach. I love Tarpon Springs and the architectural details in all of the older victorian homes within. I'd live here, but we'd need to get Scott a Prius or a tiny Smart Car to save on gas to/from his work....so...maybe! 

Today is a bust. It's been raining off and on all morning, so I decided that it was finally time to settle in and be a crafty mother, which is what social media has been encouraging me to do ever since I joined the party in Motherland. All of these crafts and designs and cooking with toddlers projects that I see my friends all doing look really easy and fun. So forget playing outside and running a muck-it's craft time and I got this. 

Homemade Play-doh prep. Done. 

I'm going to make it in every color that we have, as you can see here:

If at first you don't succeed, then your name is probably Amy and you're doing it wrong.

I tried it again, this time doubling the amount of salt in the random recipe that I had found online. It worked, so I made four batches. YESSSSS! Finally, I too can be considered a crafty mom!! "MacPherson is going to love it and he will hence love me even more for my efforts this morning," thought the silly housewife.... These four funbags have been sitting in front of him for 20 minutes now. MacPherson Honey Badger don't care.  Stop raining, sky, my kid and I are not built to stay indoors. 

September

This month was a blur, but a good blur; not the kind that leaves you worrying whether or not you'll need glasses, but the kind that you can look back on and think, that was fast, but it was mostly all great. The boy is saying new words almost every day, which is an awesome thing, minus when he calls you "sexy" as you pick him up from his Sunday School class, or when he yells "Mommy farted" while you're out in a very public place (I didn't for the record, but try telling that to the ladies who overheard him at Target and walked away snickering).  Scott's getting pretty busy at work gearing up for the Christmas Presentation, which means Christmas is almost here (shhhhh, I know...I just love this day, let it go and let me be), the air is getting cooler (which means it's in the high 80's for all of you NY'ers that like to text me about the weather I'm missing up there), and everyone is healthy. So yea...I can't complain.

Here's randomness, for the roughly 150 people a day that check this blog. I have no idea who you are, but...you like me, you really do!...?

My Grandparents Buckmaster were into music, as was their child, my dad, who would probably love to sit down with you and tell you all about the band he was in back in the day and the shows that he played when he was a rock star, ex: the opening of a local gas station. I love you dad. Rock on. His parents owned this beauty below: a record playing, 8-track supporting, radio playing beast. They used to sit and listen to their records, enjoying the days as they passed. And now, she's all mine. The sounds that she emits are so smooth with a hint of old timey grain. Scott calls it buttery. Now to shop for more records to add to our collection. The ones in the box and pictured below are all old records belonging to Scott's father. We will treasure these the most.

Look at the leg muscles on this kid. Seriously? Baby is a man-child.

We found a great waterfront (on Tampa Bay) park in Tampa. The water is a tad murky, but it does the trick when driving to the beach seems like it's to much of an ordeal.

And finally, if you text or call me and I don't respond quickly, it's because I have a friend that is motivating me to do the couch to 10k program with her. We've begun. I am tired. That is all.