I have never been in a pumpkin patch. (That I'm aware of... mom, correct me if I'm wrong.) Last year, I was excited to go and as most of you know - we went to the farm but didn't get to the patch.
We worked our our plan for this year. Within minutes of getting out of the truck we were going to be ON that hay rack headed directly to the pumpkin patch. Bypass the silly buildings, skip the goats and chickens - it's Pumpkin or Bust, Baby!
Around 6:20pm last night, we pulled into Roca Berry Farm - home to strawberries in the spring and pumpkins in the fall - and climbed out of the truck and into the muddy abyss. Handed over our tickets and were informed that the LAST hay rack was going out soon so we smirked in a heh, try to screw us over this year, Roca way and piled onto the trailer.
Pulls out and off we go.
And we keep going.
I, trying not to panic, think - oh, I bet its a type of rotation where they don't want everyone to constantly be in one particular patch. Yes, uh-huh.
But we kept going. And going.
And passing glorious pumpkins along the way.
Then we turned around. What?
It's too muddy for people to be in the patches.
In a tiny moment of despair I looked out to see the baby pumpkins in the patch stating for anyone listening to hear me say "But those are perfectly sized for Elliot!" There was no stopping this hay rack. Chug, chug, chug - the tractor pulled us right back to where we started.
Then Mr. I-Like-To-Ruin-Your-Day jumped off the tractor and informed us that they had essentially just closed because the sun set.
The Seckman's left without actually getting into a pumpkin patch.
The Seckman's left without a pumpkin.
Baby steps, people.
Next year, Roca. Next year you are MINE.
And I will not be leaving without a pumpkin.