“Sometimes,” Cliff Murray said as he and the guys opened their menus at Mabel’s Grill one recent morning, “I think the U.S. election should be Oct. 31, not Nov. 5.”
    “I’m with you,” chimed in Dave Winston. “Anything to get them to talk about something else than the election a little sooner.”
    “I was thinking some of the things that are said are so scary they should be happening on Halloween,” Cliff laughed.
    “Yeah, like the idea of a woman president!” grumbled George Mackenzie. “My wife already thinks she runs the house. What will she do if a woman is the most powerful person in the world?”
    “Okay, remember Mabel’s rule about not talking politics in this restaurant,” Molly Whiteside announced as she brought the guys’ menus to the table.
    “We weren’t really talking politics,” Dave told her. “Just wanting all the election talk to be over.”
    “A big hope with so much  election  speculation here in Canada,” Molly grumbled.
    “Let’s not even get into that!” objected Cliff.
    “Except the quicker we can get rid of Justin Trudeau the better,” George said emphatically.
    “Okay, let’s talk about something else,” Molly piped in. “Weren’t the leaves pretty with the first hint of colour this morning?”
    “It just means we’re that much closer to corn harvest,” grumbled Dave. “I’ll be on the combine all day long then trying to get the chores done before bedtime.”
    “And the time when all the cattle are inside for the winter and I have to feed them and clean them out,” grouched George.
    “Yeah but that means we can soon put the lawn mowers away,” said Cliff. “No more wasting time and gas keeping the lawn short.”
    “Goodness, I’m glad there’s one of you guys in a positive mood,” Molly said. “I mean, we’re coming up to Thanksgiving day. Don’t you guys have anything to be thankful for?”
    “I’m happy it’s almost the end of gardening season,” George said. “I’ve got carrots to dig and store in the basement and potatoes to harvest.” 
    “And the pumpkins are nearly ripe,” chimed in Cliff.
    “Oh, are you selling any pumpkins?” Molly asked. “I need some to decorate for Thanksgiving. And then I’ll carve them for the kids for Halloween.”
    “You’re not going to cut them up for pumpkin pies?” Cliff wondered.
    “Heavens, that’s too much work, cleaning out all the stringy stuff, then peeling off the shell, then baking the rest of it in the oven and mushing it all up,” Molly grimaced. “It’s easier to just buy canned pumpkin in the supermarket.”
    “Such is the world,” shrugged George. “I think there are more pumpkins grown these days than ever before – whole fields of them down near the cities, and yet people just use them for decorating.”
    “Or they shoot them off in those big pumpkin cannons to entertain people,” Dave reminded them.
     “I forgot about that,” George said, shaking his head. “All those pumpkins just used for entertainment. No wonder people think it’s no big deal if they use up farmland for new subdivisions.”
    “Yeah, but there are still more people all the time lined up to get food at food banks,” Molly sighed. “We’ve got supermarkets that are overflowing with food and other people who can’t afford to buy any of it.”
    “And then the prices are as high as this!” said George looking at the prices in the menu.
    “Well you are the farmers who grow the food that Mabel has to buy to cook the meal – like the pork for the bacon and the beef for the hamburger,” Molly reminded them.
    “Yeah, but then it gets served to us by waitresses like you who expect a higher wage all the time,” chuckled Cliff. ◊