Seed stories

We carved pumpkins last night: four small ones, now sitting along the top of our fence, and one large one, on our front stoop.



My job was to pick the seeds out from the huge bowl of pumpkin guts, so we can roast them. I love roasted and salted pumpkin seeds. I even roasted acorn squash seeds once, because I didn't have a pumpkin.

Five pumpkins mean a lot of pumpkin seeds. The pile is more then an inch deep in our large colander. I had a "no seed left behind" policy when separating seeds from pulp.



I need to rescue all the pumpkin seeds. I go through every wet and stringy blob, seeking out even the smallest seeds.

I don't have obsessive-compulsive disorder; I have a story.

The seeds want to be roasted and eaten. They don't want to go to waste. I assure them that I will find each and every one of them.