pumpkin carving + fire pit + leaves

My pumpkin is the smallest one. The one with a cat face on it. Eleanor the pumpkin perhaps?

I don't think I've ever carved a pumpkin before - or at least not that I can recall. My crazy adorable friends, Chris and Lauren, included me in their annual pumpkin carving competition in the burbs. I have vague memories of seeing pumpkins on our kitchen counters so I'm sure it happened. But, I can without a doubt say that in the last 20 years, I have not tried to make art from a seasonal farm product.

I'm not sure what I'll be doing this weekend but it's probably safe to say that I won't be carving a pumpkin. Carving post Halloween might be akin to wearing white pants after Labor Day? I'm not sure. (I know for a fact that I wore my white jeans after Labor Day. I wore them out for Italian night time drinks and cookies on September the 13th ... it was a Friday. Yes, Friday the 13th).
Fall weekends are all very different. I get this small fear of cabin fever months in advance and want to try and do as much exploring as possible before I just sit and maybe make chili and watch more Netflix. But despite looking up some farms and scenes to visit last weekend, I stayed in the city and looked for little adventures and cozy places to look at leaves. It seems to have worked.

Who knows what will happen this weekend? I can nearly guarantee it won't be laundry. I elected to just buy more black leggings from Cory Vines and embrace that it's time to wear tights to work. 
[1] It's that just a stupidly good looking fire pit? It came with the pumpkin carving activities. I think days later my hair still smells like a fire pit ... and I really don't care. I think it's awesome actually.
[2-3] Evidence of my leisurely little Sunday. It's nearly impossible to be stressed out when you have a pile of magazines, a slice of pizza, and the sun on your face. To be honest, I had two slices of pizza and that macaroon. It was delightful.
[4] Shortly after I wrote about how I avoid using my microwave, my landlord Joey decided to fix it. Joey fixing things is always an event. He tried to give me a lesson in electrical work, borrowed my ladder, and tries to make me laugh by calling Eleanor the wrong name. Silly old Italian people. Thankfully this little home improvement project took long enough that I could blame it for not taking a run. Phew.
[5-7] I found this little park after spending most of Sunday leisurely eating pizza in Beacon Hill and reading magazines. I'm not mad about all those leaves. 

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