Pumpkins, squashes and gourds, oh my🎶🎃

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.” Henry David Thoreau

It’s the great pumpkin season, Charlie Brown! Pumpkins, gourds or squash embody the spirit of autumn. We use them at Hallowe’en to carve and adorn our homes but am I the only one who starts to go pumpkin crazy in September? Judging by the number of pumpkin lattes, pumpkin muffins and pumpkin cheesecakes that are on the menus of all the famous fast food and coffee chains, I think not.

And so began my quest this last weekend to find my pumpkins. There didn’t seem to be any pumpkin patches nearby so I turned to the internet. In all of Alberta there were only four listed. This must be some kind of mistake! Maybe the local farmers do not have time to place their information on the electronic highway. I dragged Voldemort into the car and off we went in search. My brother-in-law who lives in a hamlet outside of Wetaskiwin dryly observed that pumpkins don’t grow well in Alberta because of the shorter growing season. I was not discouraged.

We drove to the famous Calgary Corn Maze which on the internet boasted of, among other things, jack-o-lantern pumpkins, cotton candy ghost white pumpkins, knucklehead pumpkins, red October pumpkins and, be still my pumpkin heart, Galeuse D’Eysine – pink skin coloured pumpkins with peanut like bumps. Surely this was the treasure trove I was looking for. We arrived a day early; apparently you can only purchase pumpkins on the weekends in Calgary. Suspiciously I looked around the Corn Maze. There was not one pumpkin to be seen. And although the internet boasted of a “pick your own” there was not a pumpkin patch in the nearby vicinity.

Skeptical that the mysterious pumpkins would arrive on the weekend, we headed back to Cochrane and went to the farmer’s market. My search netted one medium orange/green and warty pumpkin. Upon arriving home a little despondent, our neighbour Crystal commented that it was a pretty pumpkin and they had just had a shipment delivered where she worked. Quickly we hurried to No Frills and well, you can see for yourself, there be pumpkins my pretty……

Debra Mountain House

Can you imagine everywhere you look your name is written larger than life? I asked Voldemort how it felt, to see your name everywhere you looked? He said it felt fabulous and I believe him. I tried….Debra Mountain House, the Debra Mountains, Debracrest Chalets, watch for fallen Debra…no, it just isn’t feasible. I mean you will be hard pressed to even find a song sung about Debra. One of the only ones I ever found was sung by Beck, who saw Debra shopping in Macy’s (which is, of course, entirely feasible).

As you might have guessed from the title, our second venture out of Cochrane was to Rocky Mountain House. Along the way, we passed Caroline, Alberta which warranted a quick side trip. It is the birthplace of Kurt Browning. Next to shoes, one of my passions is competitive figure skating and although I remember watching Toller Cranston open the floodgates for men’s figure skating and can’t forget the battle of the Brian’s, truly my heart belongs to Kurt. So a quick photo op at the Kurt Browning Arena and we were back on the road.

One of the joys of this adventure is that we both enjoy driving. It is not the destination that we are focused on but the road that gets us there. This jaunt up Highway 22 was rolling hills and miles of cattle and horse farms. Can you spell peaceful? And by the way….the Tamarack Inn in Rocky Mountain House has some of the best french fries to grease…I mean grace….this earth.

Our next adventure was to Highway 40 towards Nakiska.   We had planned to circle around and back to Cochrane  but Mother nature changed all that.  The highway was closed  as part of the road was washed away by the flood of 2013.   It humbles me…..we build our highways and our cities and feel in control but then a little shake from our world and our efforts come tumbling down.   But the human race is nothing if not tenacious and I am sure our next trip down this highway will find the damage repaired.

 

What’s the west without a rodeo?

Cochrane Lions Club Rodeo on the Labour Day Long Weekend….the sun was shining, the beer was cold, the rodeo clowns were amusing and the horses and their riders were magnificent. If I could focus on just those things I could take the pro stand on rodeos. Unfortunately I see the pain inflicted on the bulls and the animal lover in me recoils.

What is the west without a rodeo? it is still magnificent. We could still hold a skills competition based on horse and rider synchronization. It doesn’t have to involve dominance over another living being.

This is one of the reasons I never went to see a bull fight when I was in Mexico or Spain. It is interesting that in 2010 the Catalonian people of Spain passed a law banning bull fighting and the last bullfight in Barcelona was September 2011. The arenas are now being used as alternative venues for city events. However,already there is a movement afoot to repeal the ban. But I digress….

The sun was shining….oh I already said that. It was an afternoon outing that was only five minutes away and was made even more special by the smaller venue and friendly crowds who attended. And I do so love horses. Watching the women race their favourite steeds around the barrels with total abandon and seeing the trick riders strut their stuff made my day. You could buy cowboy hats and belt buckles and John Deere strollers. Snow cones and cotton candy and greasy French fries to fill your bellies.

And who doesn’t love a lanky cowboy in blue jeans and cowboy boots with that delightful swagger. Yes, it is all about the boots.