On the third of October, I decreed that my family would be going to pick pumpkins at the patch we visited when I was younger. My parents pushed off the weekend we would go for two weeks. On October 21st, we went pumpkin picking for the first time in five years.
Bunnell Farm can only be described as New England quaint. The property belongs in a Tommy Hilfiger ad. There were still signs hung up from the weekend pumpkin patch wedding. If, as Linus says, the Great Pumpkin only visits the most sincere patches, Bunnell Farm has surely been visited a fair few times. Maybe my childhood nostalgia is coloring my view of the farm, but I still think it’s the best place to pick out your soon-to-be jack-o’-lantern. Name me one other pumpkin patch where you can pick pumpkins and make friends with a calf, the best of all the farm animals! Note the turkeys in the back, they’re important later. Everyone in my family has different pumpkin preferences. My mom and I go for aesthetic: she wanted a white pumpkin, I wanted the roundest pumpkin. My sister wants a behemoth of a pumpkin, regardless of whether or not she can carry it on her own. We all assume my dad goes big or goes home, because back in the day the pumpkins he would pick out were as big as I was as a toddler. He could be fine with a perfectly normal sized pumpkin, and we would have no idea because my sister always makes sure he leaves with a pumpkin the size of a small child. My brother hates joy; I don’t know what kind of pumpkins he likes, or, indeed, whether he likes pumpkins at all. Aside from pumpkin picking, visitors need to refuel with a hot dog from the on-site hot dog cart. Even for someone who is not a huge fan of hot dogs, I have to admit they taste better outside after an afternoon amongst the pumpkins. However, before getting his hot dog, my dad stopped inside the shop to ask about the turkeys (told you they would be important). In preparation for Turkey Day, he reserved a Bunnell Farm turkey for our feast. A little old woman in the shop told him it would be the best turkey he would ever eat. So, what did I learn on my first pumpkin picking excursion in half a decade?
- Turkeys have sex.
- Sometimes a hayride is just you sitting on a prickly bale of hay thrown on a trailer being pulled by a tractor driven by your neighbor.
- No matter how often I asked to go pumpkin picking, my parents pushed it off for so long that, when we went, all the pumpkins had rotted or been picked and we had to buy 2 for $10 pumpkins from the local grocery store. Much like avocados, pumpkins go fast and have a short shelf life. Don’t let your idealizations get the best of you.