In one of the first traditional acts of my adult life, I demanded that we carve a pumpkin last. Brad, being kind and willing to cater to my whims, not only agreed to this rare act of domesticity, he also took control of the knife and did, well, all of the work.
Here's Brad preparing Jack's hat.
Of course we named him (and of course we named him Jack). We name everything. Our wood splitter is named, "Woody." Brad's desert motorcycle (a Yamaha) is named, "The YamaDawg." My closet is called, "The Sauna," but that's not so much a name as it is a reminder of Brad's original intention for the tiny room--until I moved in and claimed it for my collection of jeans and shoes.
Arnie and Red, suspecting Jack to be food, joined us for the family fun.