This morning, early, we drove out to the town of Lumsden, Saskatchewan, to take in some of the events associated with their “Great Pumpkin and Scarecrow Festival.” We had pancakes, with strawberries and whipped cream, and all the pork sausages we wanted — three was my limit — at the open-air “Pancake Breakfast”; we examined the well-intentioned but relentlessly unremarkable entries in the “Eclectic Chair Auction” and the pumpkin carving contest; we browsed through the “Farmers’ Market,” which was devoid of fresh vegetables but had plenty of ornamental gourds, dried flowers and herbs, preserves, and honey; and we bought tickets to ride on one of the “People Movers,” two low flatbed trailers, with bales down the middle to sit on, which the organizers had hired to cart spectators around town to view the award winners and also-rans in the scarecrow contest. While touring around, I chewed on wheat straw, for old time’s sake, and when I wasn’t warming my hands in my pockets, I took a few pictures. Here are two:

We had intended to stay for the “Pumpkin Catapult” event — though as our son rightly pointed out, the “catapults” were actually trebuchets — but after the scarecrow tour, we decided we had neither the patience nor the endurance to mill around for three and a half additional hours in the bone-chilling wind just to watch a procession of unlucky pumpkins soar jauntily across the sky only to smash to smithereens on the Lions Park lawn. So we got in the car — what a relief to be warm again — and headed home.

And yet, believe it or not, it was fun while it lasted…