Last Saturday I got a sudden, unrelenting craving for Three Twins ice cream, so El Hub and I headed down the 101 to their ice cream shoppe at the Larkspur Landing mall.
Right out in front of the shop, there’s this thing called an honor farm pumpkin patch. You just pick a pumpkin you want from the patch, and then voluntarily pay (well, that’s the idea) the suggested amount in the little lockbox.
Of course, being the pumpkin fiend that I am, I wanted one of the gigantasaur, 300-pound pumpkins because — just imagine all of the pies you could bake with that! — but there was no way we were fitting one of those bad boys in the backseat of a Mazda.
The pumpkin madness continues…
Have you had any strange pumpkin sightings lately?