Saturday, October 28, 1995
We go to some pumpkin patch in Orem. Not much to it. A patch, a spook alley, some animals—the girls enjoy it anyway. It’s a fine day, too. The best bit follows as we go home and play kick and catch and swing in our frankly superb yard. I clean off the filing cabinet and get it downstairs by myself. Then as the girls play (semi) nicely, I sit on the doorstep listening to old country music and reading comic books.