Did you ever get volunteered for something, in your absence, that you would never have agreed to if you’d been there to stop it? Me too.
Did you get offered up to carve a monster pumpkin the weight of a baby elephant? Yeah, I did too.
Welcome to my pumpkin carving extravaganza!
Once upon a time there were two inordinately sized pumpkins. Said pumpkins were gifted to the local newspaper in the hope that they could help turn the enormous fruit into some money for charity. At this stage events beyond my control led me to become deeply embroiled in the whole pumpkin-carving episode – shoulder deep in the belly of the orange beast, in fact.
Getting the blighter into the kitchen was a workout; it weighed about as much as an eight year old, and the lid may as well have been soldered in place! Eventually, with my mum holding the pumpkin and me prying the top out with all the forks in our cutlery draw, we managed to get inside.
Such scraping, gutting, and disembowelling ensued that I will be mentally scarred forever. Having eviscerated and prep’d my pumpkin I then set about marking out the design. I went with Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’, because it’s important to have ambition, and because I’m a freaking lunatic.
I poked thousands of tiny holes to mark the outline (if at this stage you don’t have a repetitive strain injury you’re just not trying hard enough). It took a sweet eternity, and left me with…lots of tiny holes. Then the carving began.
I carved that picture onto the skin of the pumpkin and into the flesh of my very soul. It took an age to work out the different layers to try and build a variety of tones, but eventually I got there, stuck a large candle in it (a tea light would have got lost in the gaping cavity) and turned off the lights.
Ahhhhhhhhh. Or AGGGGGHHHH!
I know that’s all a bit sarcastic, but it was loads of fun, and helped to raise £160 for a local charity.
Happy Halloween everyone!