We had a busy weekend at Casa Canuck. Lots of finish work on the basement and what would a Saturday be without huddling under a canopy in the rain for a pumpkin festival? It wasn’t just any pumpkin festival but the place where The Obsession began last year.
As if we needed even more publicity, our city’s paper ran a picture of us on Thursday of Jamie’s big win last year so we were like mini-celebrities among the pumpkin geeks growers.
We bought some hot chocolate from the Boy Scout stand and the woman selling it to us raved about the entries but then proclaimed, “But those are nothing. You should see this pumpkin that is on display on some guy’s driveway.”
My father-in-law took third place with a 183-pounder and Haddie’s 83-pound pumpkin also took third in the children’s division (because yes, it is a family affair). She wasn’t all that invested in the competition due to the inclement weather but perked up when she realized she won a gift card to her beloved McDonald’s.
A cute little family won the adult division with a 300-pounder. I walked up to the wife to warn her that this was how The Obsession started for my husband last year. She was even the spitting image of me: curly blonde hair, pumpkin-obsessed husband, with two small children.
Saturday night, we went with four other couples to see Les Miserables. I have the CD but have never seen it performed and was blown away. Whenever I see such a production, I often envision my life on stage.
Don’t get me wrong: my voice doesn’t shatter glass and I don’t sound too badly.
Until you take the earplugs out.
And pumpkin grower extraordinaire is not one of the choices.