Fields and Farm

A birthday party landed us at a local farm on a gorgeous October afternoon.

Where, in the pecan grove, we all loaded up...

For a hayride through the cotton field to the pumpkin patch.

Sister was in heaven, sitting on a bale of hay jostling along. She managed to remove herself from the hay wagon long enough to hastily choose a pumpkin. Then, she was promptly back in the wagon yelling, "I in da twactor!"

Early dusk was beautiful over the cotton field. My friend Elizabeth is moving to the mountains of Tennessee next month. She tells me that she'll miss seeing the cotton fields. I understand, because the cotton fields are beautiful. This photo is for her.

At home after the farm, I opened the van and Sister's pumpkin came rolling out. And, it rolled down our steep driveway at alarming speed. She gave a teary yell, "My punkin moonshine! My punkin moonshine!" But, just like Sylvie Ann's, all was well. We'll carve it before too long, I think.