It's that time of year again-- Halloween! I love Halloween, but I especially love it when I have someone with me who is a great describer of costumes. Halloween also has candy (always good in my book), and pumpkins! I love carving pumpkins.
It's tradition that Mr. Pawpower and I carve a pumpkin together every year. Mr. Pawpower has this awesome way of calculating space, making even shapes, and keeping everything uniform looking. To say that I do not have this skill is the understatement of the century. I am a horrible cutter. I can't make things even and matching and looking all pretty and whatnot. I don't know why but I can't. This doesn't stop me from carving a pumpkin, though.
So our first year together and we get this huge pumpkin to carve. Mr. Pawpower removes the top and sets it aside. We agree that I'd do the eyes (huge mistake) and that Mr. Pawpower would do the nose and mouth.
To say that my pumpkin had the gaze of a six-generations in-bred, backwater mutant from hell would be a kindness.
He was most definitely cross-eyed, and his eyes weren't even, and it was just terrible. Mr. Pawpower salvaged the rest of the pumpkin, sort of. Once you screw up the eyes, your entire pumpkin is shot since the eyes kinda set the tone for the whole piece, y'know?
So the pumpkin is carved. We look for the top to the pumpkin and no top. We look on the floor, we look in other rooms, and finally we checked the dog's crates because when things aren't as they should be, rule number one is check the crates because you'll find the reason therein.
So we go through all the dog's crates and Rudy who is Mr. Pawpower's guide dog, has the top to our pumpkin. Only he's chewed it-- sort of. There was a ragged edge of teeth marks in places. It was still salvageable so I slapped it on top of our pumpkin and he looked like a scary dude. I named him "Shotgun Bubba." The "shotgun" part was for the holes in the head.
All of our pumpkins have been called Bubba ever since. We're going to carve this year's Bubba some time this weekend.
Yesterday I went to a pumpkin carving party with a friend. These things are interesting because there's always going to be someone there who has a moral and ethical objection to a blindy wielding a knife.
I don't know what the hell these people think, exactly. Do they just think I wander through life, unable to use a knife, and every time I need something cut, or sliced, or chopped, I run and find some sighted Joe to do it for me? Really?
So yes, I do use knives. I use them daily, and still have the same number of appendages I was born with so I think I'm pretty safe, no?
Also, I teach other blind people to use knives if they come for daily living skills training. If the teacher herself doesn't know how to use knives, there is a problem.
But most people don't think this way and so there is always some blabber mouth asshole who has to tantrum about it for a while, and watch me like an especially interesting laboratory specimen waiting for me to either cut myself or someone else, or... something.
It happens every year, and I seem to disappoint them since nobody has died yet!
Happy pumpkin carving, y'all!
WAGS!
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