And have the freakin’ blister to prove it.  I went to a local farm with my friend and her kids on Saturday where I dated myself.  I remember the farm having their own cider mill and hay rides into the field so you can pick your own pumpkin right from the patch.  We get there and “oh we stopped doing that years ago!”  *gurgle*

Nevertheless, we got some good pumpkins at some amazing prices.  I ended up overpaying (it’s a self serve with a money box, now who does that in today’s time?) just because I like supporting local farmers.

So I got me my big ass pumpkin and I set out for a design.  I found this one and went mine!  It’s a pay site but I’m considering joining anyway because they have some awesome stencils.  Regardless, I went a little sneaky and printed the picture and drew my own stencil.  Believe it or not, I can recreate something really well, be it from a picture, magazine page, print out, life, whathaveyou.  But try and think something up?  It gets lost in translation between my brain and the page I’m trying to draw on.

So I drew my stencils and went and bought a kit while my mom disemboweled the pumpkin for its seeds.  Needless to say, that’s something else I’m allergic to.  And they’re so nice and salty.  Blast.  Of course, this pumpkin has the thickest flesh in the world.  No less than an inch and a half at the thinnest spot.  I was carving for about two hours before I snapped the second knife in the set and gave up for the night, with two fingers left to go.

The next morning I went to the store, bought a sturdier looking set and tried to set back to work.  Notice I said tried.  The blister on my finger was so raw I couldn’t even split my fork-split English muffin let alone finish carving that beast.  So my mom finished up those two fingers.  I rejoiced when it was done and took pictures when it got dark so I could get the full effect.  If I do say so myself, it came out damn good from a hand made stencil.

So that took up most of my weekend.  But on Friday or Saturday night (can’t remember which now, of course), I had a dream that’s stayed with me.  Now I’ve never written a story from something I’ve dreamt but I woke up knowing that it had to be written.  When it started writing itself in my head, I had to do something about it.  I know it was a male POV but I was going back and forth between first and third limited.  I’ve started writing in first and I’ll see how that goes.  Another first for me, I’ve never written a story about werewolves before.  This one . . . it’s still embedded in my mind and I’m rolling with it.  I’m well aware enough of signs not to blow them off anymore.

Write, write, write, write . . . softly because I have an open blister on my writing finger.  Ouch!