Fall is my favorite time of year. I love to cook with pumpkin and apples. I cook pumpkins, too, I don’t limit myself to what comes in cans. Sometimes I throw a squash in there. No one minds.
The children and I go to the pumpkin farm every week and take hayrides and pet the animals and swim in corn. We get gourds and pumpkins to take home, paying by the pound.
The boys can run and jump to their heart’s content.
I find corn in my car for months afterward, when vacuuming.
I bake pies and cakes and cookies and muffins and experiment with rustic dishes. I want to try something with apples and peanut butter. Doesn’t that sound perfect? Like in handheld pies, or something?
I like to be outside in the fall. I am not a fan of hot weather. I like to run in the fall, run after the kids, with the kids, from the kids.
This is the last super hot day of summer and I am hiding inside. Next week it will be cool enough to bake. Peach custard, I have already promised the children.