I woke up this morning obsessed with pumpkins. Pumpkins and cinnamon to be specific. Fall and pumpkins are apparently inextricably linked in my mind.

If I could call in sick and skip work, I'd be making all things pumpkin this morning:
<ul>
	<li>Pumpkin muffins with walnuts (I don't have a muffin tin but that's okay)</li>
	<li>Pumpkin oatmeal</li>
	<li>Pumpkin cheese cake</li>
	<li>Spicy pumpkin soup</li>
	<li>Pumpkin doughnuts (I never make a doughnut before but that's not the point)</li>
	<li>Pumpkin latte (as if I have my own espresso machine...)</li>
	<li>Pumpkin lasagna</li>
	<li>Pumpkin and dark chocolate chip cookies</li>
	<li>Pumpkin butter (I don't have the slightest idea how to make this)</li>
	<li>Roasted pumpkin and assorted fall root vegetables</li>
	<li> Pumpkin banitsa (Maybe I'll get lucky and this will be on the menu for lunch. Fingers crossed.)</li>
</ul>
The thing is pumpkin is a process in this country. Libby's pumpkin puree in a can? <em>I think not</em>. You've got to go straight to the source. Enter: whole pumpkin.  So you cut it open, remove the seeds, bake it (for a long time),  puree it and then it's ready to use in most of the recipes I grew up with (pumpkin pie).

Needless to say, I've got to go to school. We're doing all sorts of exciting things today. So I've got to postpone my visions of pumpkins dancing through my head. The good news is the thought of dancing pumpkins enough to make me smile everything time I think about it: fat orange and green pumpkins* holding hands and dancing on short skinny legs.

*Just for the record, in this day-dream the orange pumpkin is American and the green pumpkin is Bulgarian because really, who's ever seen an orange pumpkin in Bulgaria?!