Every time I carve a pumpkin I think that the activity will be more difficult than it is, and I fail to plan before cutting.

This year I started by cutting out the eyes and then the nose, at which point it looked a lot like a kitty and I considered whiskers. No, I thought, I’m going to give him the toothy grin; if he looks friendly, so be it.

Then instead of cutting out the negative space between his teeth, I removed half the triangles, giving him a shaggy upper lip. That’s when I remembered that I’ve done this before. Several times. Hello again, Mr. Furry Lip. Out to the porch you go…

I had visits from a scary wrestler, a fairy, a witch, a football player (”DO YOU HAVE ANY CANDY?!”), a bat, and a teeny princess riding a unicorn.

No one mocked my pumpkin.

The painters have stripped the woodwork down to its bare self, removing years of paint that was so built up it looked like alligator skin. I wonder when these boards last felt the sun and rain. They look beautiful and are in great shape.

The front doorway looked so good stripped down that I had to take off the gnarly aluminum storm door immediately, it clashed so much.

With the paint off you can see details like this patch repair made with sheet aluminum. And the replaced boards showing that the kitchen windows used to be larger, below counter height.

Already they’re beginning to paint – soon the house will be wearing its new look.

I’ve moved and everything and nothing is happening. Nothing that doesn’t happen to others, and everything upside-down. Many good experiences with lots of scary feelings thrown in. Also a ton of adult decisions, some with heavy implications, such as cutting down trees, and some that are simple delights, such as choosing a location for my studio desk, and picking out trim for the top of the porch posts.

The cats have settled right in, which I take as a seal of approval.

There’s lots to do in the city to get ready for the big move so this week we whipped up to the house for a quick 24 hours to meet with the contractor and do a little maintenance and tidying.

M decided that the time had come for tackling his “white whale” project – taking down the flagpole. It’s been bugging him with its brazen rustiness and he wanted it gone.

Armed with WD40 and wrenches he set to it. Surprisingly the bolts gave way quite easily. He came in to get the hammer and I followed him back out to document the process.

Feeling confident.

All business.

It’s going well…

When I saw this expression on his face and his arms shaking I worried I was photographing his demise and yelled “D’you need some help?!!” but he was much too focused to hear me. (This is the picture that’s been cracking us up for days. But only because he was not crushed by the pole.)

Success in sight.

I’m still flirting with the idea of flying the Scottish flag (this one, or maybe this one) while M just wanted the flagpole gone so the compromise was to take it down and store it for possible future rehabilitation. The only space long enough was the 2nd floor of the barn which required some leverage,

and more help from me than it would appear from this picture.

All done.

I’m thinking a planter or some shrubs would be good where the base is. That’s if M doesn’t take it out with some dynamite while I’m not looking.

This guy was hanging out on my back step. I left the door open for the longest time, afraid to smoosh him. The eye spots are wild. Anyone know who s/he is?

Rose rightly identified it in her comment as an Eyed Click Beetle. See more information here, and here including, “In hot weather, they are prone to enter people’s houses at night if entries or windows are left opened.”

This one did not “click”, although we did find it upside-down later on, so perhaps it clicked when we weren’t looking.