Bringing in the cheese*

We had quite the bounty after our day at Tougas Farm.  Frances was very eager to carve into one of her pumpkins.  I can't believe we've done this with her four times already.  She's getting to be a pro.

This year, Frances livened things up by coloring the pumpkin.

I love how the whole thing glowed, not just the face.

I roasted the pumpkin seeds.  They were de-lish.  Fortunately, Frances didn't like them, Mark never eats anything that close to nature and Chandler doesn't have any teeth.  So I ate almost all of them myself, said the little red hen.  

Frances and I also made apple butter and an apple galette, specifically an Apple Mosaic Tart with Salted Carmel, only I turned it into a galette because galettes are so forgiving. 

Nobody but me liked that either.  If the rest of my family liked good food, I wouldn't weigh so much, but what Mark and Frances really like are Chips Ahoy, and I can resist those all day long.

*Mark grew up singing a hymn entitled "Bringing in the sheaves," like "bringing in the bounty."  Trouble was, he grew up in Arkansas where wheat isn't a big crop and there weren't a lot of sheaves in his life.  He thought they were saying "Bringing in the cheese."  This always tickles me, because when I was little, I thought the song "Chariots of Fire" was "Cheese Balls on Fire," not that "Cheese Balls on Fire" made a whole lot more sense to a six year old.