The short happy life and tortured death of Happy

My happy pumpkin

Happy on the night he was born

After just a day or two, my beautiful pumpkin, Happy (named after his stencil pattern), was invaded by slugs attracted to his smooth, flame-infused skin. Inexplicably and without warning, they took out one of his eyes. The ingrates.

The next day, something ate part of Happy’s little hat, which ended up in a slimy, watery grave in the pit of Happy’s stomach.

Just after Halloween, after less than a week of life on my front porch, Happy experienced a sad bump in the night, falling to pieces that the mail carrier had to step over.

Even pumpkins can lead lives of quiet desperation.

And yet, Happy had much to be thankful for. Good lineage (thank you, Bev!), a good upbringing (carving night), my thorough devotion (including a Williams Sonoma “pro” carving kit), and many candles and admirers. Plus, an afterlife in my compost heap.

At any rate, it’s November now, and time to say goodbye to Happy.

It’s also time forĀ National Novel Writing Month. I tried this last year, and it didn’t work so well for a number of reasons. I’m giving it another college try. Wish me luck and keep asking me about it. Supposedly, telling everyone that you’re writing a novel is supposed to help provide the support (bugging) we need about it. If you decide to write a novel this month, let me know … and I’ll bug YOU about it, too!



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