Last April or May or so, I had a small sugar pumpkin in my kitchen that had started to get soft on the bottom. I had bought it with the grandiose notion of baking it, pureeing it, and making a pie. I laugh at me. Ha.
Instead, I chucked it out into the side yard for the deer. The deer didn't eat it.
Now, like a bad joke from the Powers That Be, there are NINE punkins in my living room.
And I did bake off / puree two of them last weekend. Because there are at least another half dozen out there.
Want a punkin?