The kids didn't have school yesterday because of parent-teacher conferences, so we decided to go out to Larriland Farm, in Woodbine, MD, to pick pumpkins and apples and whatever else was there for the taking.

As it turned out, we hit the greens, turnip and daikon radish jackpot plus all the Halloween-themed fun. Larriland's straw maze is the best I've ever been to; seriously, you could nearly get lost in there. We loved it!

It was a spectacular day, and as I'm wont to do when faced with in-the-ground produce, I went nuts and encouraged the boys to do the same.

As we headed home, it dawned on me that once again I might have been overzealous. Would it be another death-by-produce situation?

It was. I must have put ninety miles on my salad spinner.

Fortunately, I remembered that one of my favorite recipes, batsaria (aka phyllo-less spinach pie) requires two pounds of fresh spinach and so promptly decided that was what we'd have for dinner.

The recipe is from my friend, Stephanie, whose family hails from Greece. It is so comforting and delicious.

While she makes hers in an 11 x 14 lasagna pan, I like to use two 9x13 dishes, make 1½ times the topping amount called for, split everything in half, bake both and freeze one for later. Y'all know how I love my freezer. Also, I use just one stick of butter -not because I have any issue with butter!- and have never missed the rest.

Ah, the ways recipes become your own, even if you never forget their origins. Thank you, Stephanie!

Today we raked up 87 bags of leaves from our backyard, enjoyed our tennis lesson, and are prepping for a first grade parent potluck that's tonight. I made my Vanilla Apple Bread Pudding with Caramel Whiskey Sauce (of the gods) and will later roast some rosemary-crusted salmon for the main.

Did y'all watch Real Time with Bill Maher this past Friday? The primary panel guests were Lawrence Krauss, Martin Bashir and Josh Barro and others featured were Julian Assange and Tina Brown. Great group, lively discussion, funny as balls. If you have time to watch Bill's closing monologue about the ridiculous lawsuit Donald Trump has filed against him re: "my father was Fred Trump, not an orangutan," please do yourself this favor as it is priceless. Meanwhile, can I just tell you how flipping wonderful the bread pudding I made Friday is? We ate most of it last night with pals, but it is absolutely sublime, and my will-power goes to the dogs whenever I pass the fridge. It's there, beckoning me like the most alluring of sirens despite its gloopy visage.

My baby has moved into a big boy bed. Yes, he is almost four and it does, for some arbitrary reason, seem time, but this was a boy who looooved his crib. Loved his bumpers, loved the ties that held them to the railings. He told me, quite recently, that when he was a grown-up and was a builder, he would build a crib big enough for an adult, and he would sleep in it, and he would be so happy. It was so darling I almost cried. It was, thus, whiplash-inducing when he declared about five minutes later that he was ready, and could I order the bed and would it arrive the next day.