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Home / Neighborhood / San Gabriel Valley / Arcadia Weekly / Dorothy’s Place: The 25 Pound Pumpkin

Dorothy’s Place: The 25 Pound Pumpkin

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-Courtesy Photo

-Courtesy Photo

 

By Dorothy Denne

Holidays tend to bring back memories.  Saw some Halloween decor yesterday that brought this one back to me.

There was a huge pumpkin sitting on my back porch being baked in its skin by the hot morning sun.  It was part of my fall season outdoor decor.

I don’t usually do outdoor or indoor decorating for fall, but this big guy was free.  I couldn’t pass up something that was free, but what else could I use an over 25 pound pumpkin for except as a decoration?  (I knew it was over 25 pounds because it went to the end limit of the scale.)

As with most things that are free, there was a price to pay.  My pumpkin was no exception.  The day started with an early morning breakfast with my heart-son.  As we pulled from the parking lot, he reminded me I had not buckled-up.  He was a cop and seatbelts are the law.  I dutifully pulled the strap and snapped the buckle in place.

Later in the day my husband and I had an errand to run.  We decided to take his little, old VW Bug.  The key word in that sentence is “little” so keep it in mind.

On the way home from our errand we stopped to buy a quart of milk.  We discovered the cat litter was on sale, so were some paper towels, tissues, a broom, etc., etc..  We decided to stock up.

Along with a minimum $20.00 purchase came a free pumpkin.  I’m sure the reason they were free was that no one in his right mind would buy one that big.

My husband loaded all the bags and the broom into his little (key word) Bug.  The car was full and he still had me and the over 25 pound pumpkin to go.  It wasn’t an easy situation.

I scrunched into the remainder of the passenger-side bucket seat.  Now there was only the pumpkin.  I lowered a leg.  I lifted the other leg.  I twisted a foot and bent a knee.  The huge pumpkin sat between my legs, so to speak, and my equally huge purse was tucked under my chin, so to speak.

As we pulled from the parking lot my husband, like my heart-son, reminded me I did not have my seatbelt on.  This time I did not dutifully buckle-up.  I couldn’t even find the damn buckle.  I moaned, “You know Bob, don’t worry about it.  If you make a sudden stop, belt or no, I’m going to have a 25 pound pumpkin up my arse.”

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