A pumpkin is a squash.

Pumpkins are round and smooth and orange. Orange is my favorite color. And, pumpkins have these little ridge lines or dents running from top-to-bottom over their thick smooth skin. And, they have this kinda’ brown handle on the top, where they were connected to the vine, but don’t try to pick them up by the handle, because once the pumpkin is harvested that handle dries, and it’s no longer strong enough to support the pumpkin (if it every was), and that brown stem will probably snap if you try to lift it there, and you will have to catch that pumpkin before it hits the floor and smashes open and all the seeds spill out.

WHEW! That was close.

But, don’t worry, if it breaks open you can make pumpkin pie filling from the pulp inside the skin. Pumpkin pie is my favorite pie. And, you can invite me over to eat the pie while we make Jack-o’-lanterns out of some of the other pumpkins in the patch. Places full of harvested pumpkins for sale are call pumpkin patches, and that is where you see a lotta’ pumpkins.

Every pumpkin is different, and they all make excellent Jack-o’-lanterns. You could say that once you’ve seen one pumpkin, you’ve seen them all, but every Jack-o’-lantern is different, and you never see two Jack-o’-lanterns exactly alike, because every person has his or her own way of pumpkin carving, and you just can’t carve two pumpkins the same, even if you really try.

My Dad was an excellent pumpkin carver.

I still remember the process: slicing out the top hat with the handle, scooping out the icky insides with a big spoon, drawing a face on the outside (it’s hard to draw over the dents), carefully cutting the face pieces (curves were the hardest), popping out the eyes, nose, mouth and ears (we made ears, and we stuck our hands inside and popped all the pieces out from the inside), making a little place in the inside bottom of the pumpkin for the candle, putting the candle in, trying to figure out how to light the candle, lighting the candle, turning out the lights and screaming.

The face was so cool. It really wasn’t scary. It was so cool.

We’d take the Jack-o’-lantern (pumpkin no longer) outside and carefully place him near the front door. Then, we’d run to the sidewalk, look back, and see how it looked from this angle and then that direction. Placement and appearance are very important to pumpkin carvers turned Jack-o’-lantern designers. We’d smile and laugh and think in our kid heads that a carved pumpkin is fun, a good friend and a scary guard. Maybe it wasn’t much of a guard, more of a magnet actually, but it certainly was a friend to warm the cold of a fallish evening as we ran and played and waited for that special night that all kids know will be coming soon after they see that first carved and glowing Jack-o’-lantern.

Those are good memories.

Soon, I will be walking the streets with my grandchildren, who I may not recognize because of their costumes. We will come to a house in the dark, look up and see him, the Jack-o’-lantern. We’ll all shiver and hug and say, “You go first, I’m not going up there.” Then, a brave child will carefully slide up the walk, ring the bell, step back as the door creaks open, and yell timidly “Trick or Treat,” with one eye on the candy in the outstretched hand and the other on that scary old Jack-o’-lantern with the big flickering smile. As the others see it’s safe and run shouting for their loot, I’ll walk up slowly behind them, reach out my hand, bend down and pat Jack on the head.

It’s always good to see an old friend . . . again.

Happy Pumpkin,

Grandpa Jim