As a gift from the gods, just as Michelle hit “send” on the final edits of “The Goblin’s Curse” (book six of the Faire Folk series), the temperature dropped to tolerable, even delightful, status. Seventy degrees by day, in the fifties at night. Of course, we may get a return of the sweaty nineties, but it’ll just be summer’s last bit of bravado. Fall is definitely in the air.
I celebrated yesterday by buying a perma-punk. That’s the term for a faux pumpkin coined years ago by Atlanta Shakespearean actor and wit Doug Kaye. I’ll probably get real pumpkins, too, but the humidity and lingering heat turns them into little mold farms so I’ll wait ’till mid October for those. In the meantime, I’ve got my lovely orange pumpkin, which looks so real that the cashier at Joann’s almost hit herself in the face with it when she misjudged its weight. It looks like a twenty pound beast of a pumpkin, but it’s made of some sort of hard foam. Problem is, since it weighs almost nothing, I don’t know how I’ll keep the wind from blowing it off the porch.
Pumpkin glue, anyone?