We have a family tradition of visiting a pumpkin patch each fall. It started back in Indiana when we’d go to Appleworks and pick our own pumpkins right off the vine before going into the store for some fresh apple cider and homemade fudge. It was bursting with classic fall goodness.

In Texas, we were shocked and appalled to see that the San Antonio version of a pumpkin patch was just a dirt field with cardboard pumpkin bins and corny rides. Our second year in San Antonio we managed to find one that had beer, so at least that was an improvement.

We hoped that moving into a climate that experiences more seasonal variation like Colorado does would mean real pumpkin patch goodness again. Alas, ‘twas not to be. We still had fun, we still got pumpkins, and most importantly to this memory keepin’ Mama, we still got cute pictures.