Happy Halloween!

Being in Michigan in October made me miss Halloween a bit, and I found myself talking about the holiday with friends at dinner last week. I mentioned that I used to carve a pumpkin every year, but I had never seen one in France. My colleague's fiancée said that her parents had a small plot, and they happened to grow pumpkins. She'd send one with Pierre to work for me.

Pierre is a very sweet guy, but he looked at his cherie with a bit of hesitation.

"But....I take the train to work..."

Well of course I insisted that he not bother, but sure enough, on Monday morning he proudly walked up to my desk with a round orange gourd the size of a bowling ball.

The pumpkin was the team mascot until I lugged it home that night, cradled in the crook of my arm like there was nothing more mundane than carrying a big vegetable through the office. What's funny is that in France, when someone sees you with a pumpkin, they assume you're making soup.

Last night I carved it, and relished in the memories of Halloween: pulling off the top, scraping out the guts, separating out the seeds, poking out the eyes.

He's not the most masterpiece of pumpkins, but I bet he's the only jack-o-lantern in Paris tonight.

Not the best of our annual Halloween photos, but this little guy took a lot more work than most, which makes it even more special.