It is October. Pumpkin time. Social media is filled with pictures of pumpkins, and more importantly, of family trips to pumpkin patches, so I decided we must go with the Instagram-flow and get our own pumpkin patch pictures. Off to our local Pick Your Own farm we went in search of our own baby and daddy and mummy pumpkins.
It was our first time picking our own produce, so we weren't sure what to expect. Other than of course, some pumpkins and maybe some other vegetables too.
Only, they didn't have any pumpkins. Nought. In fact, no local Pick Your Own farm had any pumpkins. Squashes maybe, a few measly ones awarded by the poor season, but no pumpkins. The nearest pumpkin patch was over 26 miles away. That was a few too many miles to go for just one vegetable.
So no, we didn't get our handpicked pumpkins or the Instagram worthy pictures of an over-excited toddler running between rows and rows of orange. But what we did get was loads of strawberries. A huge amount, thanks to the very late warm weather. They were sweet, and lusciously red, and oh so sinfully sweet, especially when secretly munched in the field...
We picked a few french beans too before it was time to go home. And gosh did they taste amazing when we had them for dinner. Maybe it is the freshness, where you take them practically from field to pot, or the fresh air, or just the fact that it was you that picked them. But they did taste so much more flavoursome than anything we have ever bought before.
And yes, we did get our pumpkins in the end. We picked our Halloween pumpkins, just like most of UK does, from our local supermarket.
Not quite as magical as a pumpkin patch, but hey, it'll look just as fine as a Jack'O'Lantern!
You might also like: Our Sunday at the farm, Autumn walks and muddy bottoms, and Walking the toddler - a trip to Forty Hall