Before Halloween we went to a friend's house for the annual pumpkin carving party.
I'd like to say the party is just for the kids, but the adults manage to have a pretty good time, too.
(Seeing this photo reminded me that I'm missing one of those shoes she's wearing. Drat.)
Jenn is my tutor in the art of Ethnic Midwest Cuisine, and just when I think I'm getting the hang of Midwesternism (such as "salads" that have nothing green in them except pistachio pudding), she plops something new in front of me.
(I think this was a pickle concoction wrapped in cream cheese and ham.)
Apparently, cutting a pumpkin requires great concentration, which is aided by sticking out one's tongue . . . .
Gabe is dangerous enough without handing him any pointy objects, so he just hopped around from table to table and "helped" everyone else.
Some of the adults took their pumpkin carving very seriously . . .
For dinner we all chipped in for pizza from Memos, or MeeMoh's, or Mimo's, or something like that. Whatever it's called, it was fabulous pizza.
(Whoops! I just remembered that I never did pay Jenn for our portion of the pizza. Must remember to do that . . .)