The pumpkin weigh-off’s shocking results!

October 6, 2011 By

It was a small miracle Jamie was able to take his pumpkin Ricky (named in honor of Ricky Gervais) to the Jared’s Nursery weigh-off after he discovered a crack a few weeks prior. For weeks, he caulked it and though he was not able to officially enter his pumpkin, Ricky made it to the weigh-off.

And he was the prettiest pumpkin there.

Yes, I just referred to an inanimate object as a “he.”

The kids and I always have a blast getting spooked in the Ghoul Galleria, jumping in the bouncy castle, playing in the maze, doing face-painting, balloon animals and marveling at the over-sized gourds.

Yep, that’s a pear behind Bode.

This year, the kids’ pumpkin was a lot smaller so we had low expectations. In fact, Jamie wasn’t the only grower who had a rough year–most of them lost at least one of their pumpkins. Denver had a really wet spring and a super hot August, resulting in a lot of pumpkins rotting out. There were no records and a lot of grown men inwardly crying.

It wasn’t pretty.

The kids won the children’s competition with their 146.5-pound pumpkin. Their father couldn’t have been more proud. Their mother, on the other hand, was mortified when another child took their pumpkin to the scale and Bode joked, “That’s too little!”

Once again, they won the blue ribbon and…(wait for it)….a bag of fertilizer.

I informed Jamie I’m overseeing the prizes for the children’s competition next year.

As for Jamie? He was shocked and delighted with his result: his heaviest pumpkin ever!
The scale says 926 pounds but it was actually 924.5 pounds. Cheater had his hand on the pumpkin.

That’s sure a heavy hand.

There was only one pumpkin that was larger at the weigh-off and that grower was from Wyoming. Jamie had the biggest pumpkin in Colorado that day and Ricky would have assuredly been over 1,000 pounds if it hadn’t cracked. Jamie’s goal is to break 1,000 pounds so that means we’re in it for at least another year.

Who am I kidding? He’s in it for life.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Bode, Hadley, Humor, Jamie, pumpkins

At Long Last: The 3rd Annual Pumpkin Par-tay!

October 5, 2011 By

Three years ago, we instituted our First Annual Pumpkin Par-tay. Admittedly, it was a ruse to get people to help lift the pumpkin but it has grown from there.

Both the size of the pumpkin and the parties.

Since Jamie loves big pumpkins and I love to eat all-things-pumpkin, we decided to make it a pumpkin potluck and ask our guests to bring some pumpkin-inspired dishes.

Now, there are varying degrees of commitment to the cause. Some planned their dishes out several weeks in advance and it showed with delicious offerings such as pumpkin caramels, pumpkin bundt cake, pepita (pumpkin seed) salsa, mini-pumpkin pies, pumpkin chili, pumpkin empanadas (my offering) and more.

Others call the day of the party complaining they can’t find canned pumpkin anywhere and bring brownies. And then a few call a half-hour before and say, “Hey, I misplaced my invite. Is that pumpkin party of yours today?”

Regardless, it always comes together in a delicious and fun way.

Bode took on the important role of tour guide and directed people to our backyard.


Of course, The Pumpkin Man was our local celebrity.
Last year, my bestie Tina busted out with a killer pumpkin hat Jamie made famous on The Marriage Ref.

This year, she gifted him some ultra-cool pumpkin glasses.
To think she almost didn’t make it because she somehow didn’t receive an invite (apologies to any of my other regulars who befell the same fate).

Of course, everyone comes to pose with The Great Pumpkin.


And marvel.
But the real attraction was the official vine-cutting. Many people have asked me how we transport the pumpkin to the weigh-off. We use a forklift but you first need to put lifting straps around it (not an easy process).
It’s also a good excuse to get a nice butt shot of your husband.

Then, attach the lifting straps to the chain on the forklift.
Then you watch a grown-man pray that the bottom of the pumpkin hasn’t rotted out completely (if you will recall, it cracked a few weeks ago). All was well.

Except for the fact Jamie’s body turned into a pumpkin. Nice legs, dude.

For the second year in a row, our neighbor Andy was the forklift driver.

When it was over, he was heavily perspiring. “Dude, that was the most stressful thing, ever!”

Then they loaded it onto a trailer. And no, I did not approve of Jamie graffiting the back window of my vehicle with that saying.


See that kid in the orange shirt? That’s our neighbor Luke who kept shouting out, “PUMPKIN PINATA” and swinging his baseball bat at the air.

I think he was kidding but his murder would have been no joke.

After that, the kids cut their pumpkin off the vine.

And (let’s count ‘em): SIX guys carried the pumpkin to the front porch.

I mention the number of men because the next morning, Jamie and I (TWO mere mortals) carried it out to the car. By ourselves. With my sore knee.

One of the many sacrifices of a pumpkin widow.

Tune in tomorrow for details of the weigh-off!

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Humor, Jamie, pumpkins

Copper Mountain and My Ride of Death

October 4, 2011 By

Missed yesterday’s post? Be sure to read Part I.

Admittedly, my reason for wanting to go to Copper Mountain in the off-season is because I have been dying to bike the portion of the Ten Mile Recreational Pathway that runs from Copper Mountain down to Frisco (about 13 miles round-trip.)

This extensive network of trails in Summit County is among my favorite in Colorado. A few years back, I biked with the kids from Frisco along the reservoir to Lake Dillon (one of my favorite days ever). Another time, I biked from Dillon up to Keystone and also we did Frisco to Breckenridge.

All that remains are for me to do Copper Mountain to Frisco and then Copper Mountain up Vail Pass, the latter of which is a 1,000-foot climb.

It’s no wonder I saved the best (or rather, worst) for last.

But on Saturday, I was determined to bike to Frisco and so I woke up at 6 a.m. It was still pitch-black outside.

I dozed until 6:30 a.m. It was barely starting to light up.

I fell back asleep hard, awaking at 7 a.m. I tried to talk myself out of going and stay snuggled up to Jamie but I had come on this trip for the express purpose of biking the trail. All other portions have been glorious and why should this one be any different?

Turns out, it was. Different, that is. As in bad-different.

It wasn’t the actual trail that was bad. In fact, a beautiful smattering of lemon-lime trees lined the path and the moderate decline to Frisco should have been a breeze.

But it was awful for two reasons: the weather and my bike.

Daytime temperatures were 60 degrees but nighttime hovered around freezing and that’s what it was when I started out. I had only worn a light fleece and Capri biking shorts and cannot ever remember being so cold on a bike path.

But I wouldn’t, I couldn’t turn back. For me, the only thing worse than quitting is having unfinished business and so I pressed onward, slowly.

The sluggish pace was due to a problem I am admitting publicly for the first time: I have an aversion to pumping tires. I’ve always felt this way and if you factor in my bike’s presta valve (that requires an adapter to pump), I avoid it at all costs.

That morning when I started out, my tires weren’t firm but still rideable. By the end, they were nearly flat.

Have you ever biked 13 miles in freezing temperatures with near-flat tires? It wasn’t pretty.I couldn’t even fake a smile here.

But I did it and now the only portion that remains is climbing from Copper Mountain to the top of Vail Pass.

Lesson learned: Wear winter clothes…and fully pumped tires.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: biking, Colorado, Family travel, Humor

Copper Mountain’s Solace

October 3, 2011 By

After our doozy-of-a-week in the hospital, our overnight trip to Copper Mountain on Friday could not have come at a more perfect time. I asked Jamie if he wanted to cancel but we have been trying to schedule this getaway for months (our lodging was a trade agreement with one of his clients).

And so we went with the understanding Jamie would need to lie low.

If there’s a perfect place to do that, it’s Colorado’s mountains in the fall and we nailed the colors perfectly.

Located 75 miles west of Denver right off I-70, Copper Mountain is the last of the major ski resorts I had yet to visit. Unlike many other resorts in Colorado, there is a ski village built around the area but no real town. This means the shoulder seasons (fall and spring) are like a ghost town. The solace was glorious.

On Friday night while Jamie rested at the condo, Hadley, Bode and I hot tubbed and then explored the area, starting with Copper Mountain Golf.

(Shhhhh, don’t tell the golfers we were on contraband bikes).

We also checked out The Woodward at Copper, a year-round snowboard and ski training camp (the first of its kind) with 19,400 feet of terrain park and pipe progression.
Basically, it’s teen/tween heaven and the staffer was gracious to show us around and even let the kids jump off the ramp into one of the many foam pits.


I declined for fear I’d be unable to climb out.

And yes, I speak from old-woman experience.

Tune in tomorrow (read the story here) for the sordid details of my ride of death. OK, maybe I didn’t exactly die but find out why I kind of wanted to. And yes, I still know I’m in need of posting pumpkin updates. It’s on my (very long) list.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: biking, Colorado, Family travel, travel

The reality behind Colorado mountain scenery

October 2, 2011 By

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
~Albert Camus


That’s as poetic as you’re going to get from me.

At the very moment I took this picture at a pit stop en route to Copper Mountain, Bode was peeing on a nearby bush and Hadley was puking on another.

Just keeping it real, people.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Bode, Colorado, Family travel, Hadley, Humor
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