For the love of a good pumpkin

So desperate was I in my search for affordable pumpkin, I was near ready to throw myself of the fiscal cliff and just end it once and for all.

Then one day last week as I was shamelessly coveting the crown pumpkin pieces in the supermarket and, I might add, creating a pool of drool, I saw, tucked right at the back a rather attractive piece of buttercup that I could afford to buy without the need for a payment plan.

It was like winning the lottery. Convinced there had been a pricing error, I took my holy grail to the checkout and asked if they could confirm that the price was right.

Even the cashier commented on what a great buy it was. Despite the lack of gift wrapping available I paid in full and proceeded to carry my new-found jewel carefully and proudly to the car. It ranked up there with bringing home my first-born life form and I couldn't wait to show her off.

Knowing that our time together would be short, I wasted no time in grabbing the camera and set about making memories with this orange beauty, capturing her in all her glory. I had her pose peeled and then with her permission we did some unpeeled shots, tastefully done. Not a tacky rumpy-pumpy or raunchy shot in sight. Ensuring she was comfortable in the way I showcased her firm, curvaceous form, we took snaps of her raw and cooked and even had her pose with other produce, like potato and kumara.

Stripped bare, my precious buttercup could have easily been a page-three pin-up in any high-class produce tabloid.We made the most of our time together before my buttercup selflessly sacrificed herself to the steamer for the greater good, before taking pride of place in a kick-ass frittata.

Later, however, guilt and regret set in. Should I have hidden this Faberge egg of the produce world away in a dark corner, saving her for Christmas lunch? Would I be able to find another such fine specimen within my price range or would I be left with no option but to seek out a loan shark or resort to crime to support my pumpkin craving? Should I have considered insuring her for replacement value, should she spoil or be stolen? I shared my fears with Waffle, who listened intently but had no answers for me.

I realised stressing about it wasn't going to help the situation.

So, following advice from Dr Phil, I gave myself permission to just let it go and leave it to fate.

The frittata was certainly a highlight in the week that was - a week filled with as many ups and downs as a Viagra junkie. I am not even going to comment on the Aussie radio prank and its subsequent fallout. It's already had far more press than it deserves which, ironically, is the whole bloody problem in a nutshell.

Those of us with a forum to comment will make use of it for no other reason than we can. Never a sheep, I know when enough is enough and this is most certainly one of those times, it's a bandwagon I'm not jumping on.

In other news, however, it has become apparent that the David Bain saga is set to be the new bane of my life on the media front. Been there, done that, and in his case bought the gaudy jumper and I'm over it. As with Ewen MacDonald in the Scott Guy case, I'd like to know how a verdict of not guilty due to the presence of reasonable doubt suddenly equates to a verdict of innocent. Regardless of my personal opinion it simply means that on the day, the defence did a better job than the prosecution. Let's keep things in perspective people.

There is no denying that the law is an ass. Where else can a convicted criminal break a leg whilst attempting a prison break and be entitled to thousands of dollars in compensation? That in itself is a crime. Furthermore, I wouldn't be at all surprised to discover that those spending Christmas behind bars will sit down to a dinner that boasts pumpkin and overall will be more lavish than many meals scraped together by average law-abiding families, struggling to make ends meet. Where's the freaking justice in that? I'm seriously considering re-visiting the fiscal cliff and taking a flying jump.

Perhaps pre-holiday stress is beginning to take its toll. If, like me, you are just not feeling the Christmas spirit yet I suggest you grab hold of a bottle of brandy and re-establish contact. This versatile golden elixir is not only a great snifter, it's perfect for egg nog, festive baking and cooking and is jam-packed with medicinal properties.

Instead of milk, perhaps they should offer free brandy in schools - for the teachers, anyway. A good stiff drink would be much appreciated I'm sure, especially in light of the still unresolved Novapay disaster.

Rant over, I'm off to release my three life forms from their cages and drag them into town for their annual photo with Santa. Yes, I know they are 16 and 15 but I also know that Santa can't discriminate based on age or weight. I might even plonk myself on his lap. I've been a good girl and feel I deserve a pumpkin. I hope the old boy hasn't had a recent knee replacement or worse, will be in need of one after our visit.

Remember to share the Christmas spirit, smile loudly and hunt out that mistletoe. Take good care and remember ... I'll be back.