The Road to Glory: Pumpkin Carving Party 2007

Tradition is something that’s very important to me. Unfortunately, carving out time to make traditions is often hard when you have a family as active as mine. There’s always a ton of things to do, which means we’re always busy, which means we’re always tired as a result of being busy doing the tons of things there are to do. So tradition is often tossed to the curb, not because it’s not valuable to everyone, but because we’re so beat by the effort it takes to make sure the mechanics of everyday life run smoothly that adding on anything else is daunting. For the most part, I am okay with this. I like to think that I’m a pretty “roll with the punches” kind of gal, and truthfully, I enjoy the chaos that comes with having a family like mine. But there are some things, some traditions that I can not and will not sacrifice no matter what, the most important of which is our annual Pumpkin Carving Party.

For as long as I can remember, my family has carved pumpkins for Halloween. Even when I was really little I was always way more psyched up for carving pumpkins than for getting to wear a costume or going trick-or-treating. It was always a huge production: Going to the pumpkin patch with my little red wagon in tow, looking over every pumpkin meticulously till I found just the right one, then going home and staring at my pick, waiting for inspiration (the perfect Jack O’Lantern face!) to hit me – wow. I get a buzz just thinking about it now. And all that excitement was nothing compared the actual carving. Scraping out the gooey insides was gross in the very best way, and getting to use an actual knife to give my pumpkin a funny/scary mug made me feel both creative and very, very grown up (though my parents were always close by, making sure the only thing getting carved was the pumpkin, not little fingers). I can remember my mom helping me put in candles and guiding my hand as I lit up my masterpiece. We’d go outside and set them all on our front porch, then step back and admire the bright, glowing faces shining back at our own.

As the years have gone on, we’ve modified our pumpkin carving tradition. We always have the same dinner on the night we carve (Sloppy Joe’s, tater tots and corn – a meal which would sound absolutely disgusting to us on any other night, but which we honestly look forward to when it’s paired with pumpkin carving), but in recent years we’ve added some gourmet elements to the meal, usually a snazzy dessert or cocktail for those of us old enough to imbibe. My grandparents have started participating in the past few years as well, and that’s something that gives me endless amounts of joy because my grandparents are awesome. But the biggest – and best – change has been that now, instead of carving just for fun, we’ve turned it into a competition, judged by our ten year old next door neighbor, Caitlin. This new aspect of the Pumpkin Carving Party makes me the happiest of all.

It’s widely known in our family (and on this blog) that I’m a total gamer, and that when there’s an opportunity to win anything, I’m all over it. All over it like a crazy person. In my wildest dreams, people would find this to be a cute, quirky part of my personality. In reality, I think it’s more something that people put up with. That would usually upset me, but not when I’m winning, because nothing – NOTHING – gets me down when I’m on top, and this insane need to be the best definitely extends to pumpkin carving. I would say that I’m a good loser, but I can’t really be sure about that, because for the last three years (that is, ever since we introduced the competition side of the Pumpkin Carving Party), I have been crowned the Pumpkin Carving Queen (Hehe! I’m not really keen on rubbing it in, but suck it, family! You’re all losers.). The first year I won, I went sort of cartoony on my pumpkin, turning out a cute, simple cat face. Last year, I brought home the gold with my Picasso inspired entry (that’s the best way to describe it; it had one triangular eye, one sunburst-looking eye, a wide open v-shaped mouth, and, strangely, all my hair and nail clippings from the last year). This year, like the Lakers before me, I achieved the three-peat with my classic but well executed design. Check it out:



That’s mine in the middle, flanked by a couple of underachieving also-rans. Notice the kind of commitment to excellence that’s a hallmark of my pumpkin carving style: The inside is spotless, with no leftover stringy innards or errant seeds, the uncomplicated design allows for a ton of light to come through, and each feature is back-cut, giving the face a clean, flawless look. Never underestimate the importance of good pumpkin carving technique, people. That attention to detail separates the men from the boys (or in my case, me from everyone else, though the shameless gloating might contribute to that separation as well.). And that’s why I’m the Pumpkin Carving Queen yet again. Congratulations to me. And to you, for having the honor of knowing me.

As an added bonus, here is a picture of my grandparents holding their adorable yet remarkably substandard entries. My grandma went freeform on us, and while she refused to name her inspiration, we think her pumpkin was a dead ringer for William Hung. My grandpa’s pumpkin…well, his design is the same one he’s been doing for exactly 50 years. Every year I try to impart some of my pumpkin carving wisdom, telling him to make the design bigger so it’s brighter and to spend more time cleaning it out, and every year he tells me his design is timeless and that the extra goop inside adds to the spookiness of it (and by “telling him” those things, I mean, of course, whispering them under my breath while secretly thinking, “One less fool to stomp all over in my quest for victory.”). To each his own, I guess.



I emailed this picture to my Aunt Lee after our party, and this was her response: “Hey, do those pumpkins look like them or what? Was this carving supposed to be a self portrait?” I love my aunt. I love Halloween. But most of all, I love winning making lasting memories with my family.