Pumpkin Carving and the Art of Halloween

Yesterday I monopolized the kitchen. I peeled, cored, sliced, cooked, and canned eighteen quarts of apple pie filling from the bushel and a half of sqeaky clean apples. Wayne could not get anything to eat, or so he said. Had he asked, I would have gladly taken a break so he could make a sandwich. He said he didn't want to disturb me.

While I worked, Wayne went out to the porch to carve a Halloween pumpkin. I assumed he was carving a traditional Jack'O Lantern. I should have known better. When he finally called me to come outside and view his creation, my jaw dropped in amazement. Carved into the pumpkin rind was a silhouette of a witch on a broomstick; with a lighted candle inserted, the witch appeared to be flying past a full moon.

"Did you trace that before you carved it?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "I drew it free hand and then cut out the pieces with a drill and a small saw."

My husband is artistic and I was unaware of his talent. I mistakenly pigeon holed him as an electrician who is excellent at his trade, as well as handy around the house, period; it never occured to me that he could also be an artist, yet another surprise from The Man Behind the Apron.