I don’t do seasonal decor.
I am the running joke of the cul de sac because you will never be able to determine the season by looking at my front door. There aren’t any wreaths. No holiday flags. Nothing festive or indicative of cheer. It’s a house. We live there. The end.
One year, my neighbors took it upon themselves to decorate our yard for us. We came home to two lit up reindeer and a giant inflatable snowman in the front yard. What was even funnier was that one neighbor insisted we give the snowman back that night so it could return to its rightful place in her yard.
Anything that decorates the inside of my house has to be low on the clutter spectrum. We have too many kids to bring in more clutter. And I like it to have meaning. I don’t want a collection of 72 nutcrackers in the house, I want the nine that my sister-in-law gave us as the longest running gag gift in history.
The kids, however, would like a little festivity. So we settle for some construction paper turkeys the kids made at Thanksgiving and our naked tree branches at Christmas.
And everybody is happy.
I recently had the privilege of spending a weekend with several blogging friends. The LoveFeast girls were there and pressed these tiny velvet pumpkins into our hands. I’d seen them, of course. If you’ve read the Nester or Pioneer Woman, you’ve seen these pumpkins.
But to hold one, that’s different.
They feel so… comfy. Soft, squeezable, elegant, and just right.
I took my pumpkin home and tossed it on the dining room table in my frenzy to unpack. For the next 24 hours, I found that pumpkin all over the house: the laundry room, the floor of the living room, under the table, on the counter. The kids wandered around holding it, making up stories about it, singing songs to it. It was touchable and, check it, SEASONAL.
Andrew and I talked it over and decided a purchase was in order. Now we have a stack of pumpkins that look like this:
I love that they can live in my house from September until Christmas. And if I want to, I can yank the orange ones and leave them out well into March. And maybe longer… (I’m not big on change once I find something I like.)
I love that they’re kid-friendly (They have to be gentle, of course. No baseball.) Most days, the pumpkins look more like this:
I snapped this picture and walked away. A fist fight broke out not five seconds later over the pumpkins. True story.
Most of all, I love that these will hold up. They’re timeless. It’s one of those things I want the kids to expect to be sitting out when they come home in the fall twenty years from now. (Lord, please let some of them come home…. Wait, no, let some of them leave so they can come home…)
I remember growing up there was a little brass angel that spun around and tinkled when its candles were lit. It was the most annoying thing ever. And yet every year, it sat out on the piano and we played with it and talked about how obnoxious it was. I think it eventually went to “the farm” or wherever it is annoying toys go to die, but it’s one of those unforgettable things that I know if we still had it, we’d drag it out every year and expect it to be just as annoying and just as necessary to the season as the Christmas tree.
That’s what I think these pumpkins are. Only they’re not obnoxious. They’re beautiful. Changeable. Something to cherish and use. They’re an heirloom absolutely worth saving your pennies for.
But one of you won’t have to. The LoveFeast ladies are letting me GIVE AWAY SOME PUMPKINS.
One lucky winner will get a TRIO of the LoveFeast pumpkins (just like mine!)
Here’s how to enter:
Mandatory: Leave me a comment telling me your favorite childhood seasonal decor or a favorite heirloom you have now.
*Some of you have complained that you couldn’t enter giveaways because you weren’t on Facebook so I made the comment the only thing required and it will get you more points in Rafflecopter. Congratulations if you understand that last sentence because I barely do.
Ok. Enough rules. Go forth and enter: