Each day before it gets dark, I walk around the house plugging electric pumpkins into nineteen of our windows.
I’ve been doing this since we bought the house ten years ago. Up until this year, I’ve been pushing end tables, chairs, stacks of books, and backs of couches in front of each of these windows as makeshift pumpkin holders. But this year, I decided to think outside of the box by dangling each pumpkin from the curtain rods with fishing line.
To attach the fishing line to each pumpkin, I had to drill two holes through each of their tops. But then I couldn’t thread the fishing line through it, so Doug showed me how to use a dremel to cut a hole around each of their bottoms.
Every time I attached a pumpkin to a curtain rod, either the rod collapsed, or the fishing line slipped through the holes, and I had to thread it all over again.
Once the pumpkins were in place, they were swaying from side to side, so their faces couldn’t always be seen from the outside. I tried sticking the faces to the windows with mounting tape. That didn’t work. Finally I solved the problem by pulling their cords taut and fastening them straight with electrical tape.
After three of the pumpkins were secure, tied, centered, and taped, their light bulbs burned out, and I had to repeat the process.
I do all this so my neighbors, Chris and Kelly, can enjoy the view from their front yard. And they never even thanked me.
Three cars have passed by our house since I put up the pumpkins last week. Not even so much as a thank you wave from anyone driving by.
The moral of this story is, dear readers, it’s now up to you to peep through my windows. You’d better look hard at my friggin’ pumpkins, and you’d better like ‘em.
This is the only time I’ll ever get to say that. After this, it would just be weird.