Trout Whisperer - The last one

I’m an hour later than I planned on driving up to a sprawling ranch style home. Parked, I exit my truck and there on a golf cart is small brown bag which I open and see a note that read, this one’s yours, see ya out there, resting on top of a filled jelly donut.
Not wanting to chase a bag around all day I leisurely enjoy the donut, then I deposit the empty sack in his garage.
I get seated, step on the golf cart gas peddle and down the farmyard road I go passing the house his father built, further along on the same side of the drive I then pass the house his grandfather built, then a massive barn with one silo, a very new pole building then I drive between two silos, one no longer in use, then through a three acre stand of gargantuan oak trees until I hit the intersection where I head north, I didn’t see him right away, but once I did, I headed in his direction.
I made my apology for being so late, his says, oh don’t worry we have all day, and it took all day for both of us to pick and haul 3,600 pounds of pumpkins, the biggest weighed 51 pounds, and we both made sure we only picked the ones over 30 pounds which was the major majority.
I stand up one last time, finding that favorite pumpkin, the last one, and to the cart I go, trailer in tow back to this year’s, pick a pumpkin patch, that hundreds of people will come to see and more often than not buy one.
The pile is over fifty feet long, ten feet wide and my shoulder high in many places, but not entirely along the row.
I’m sore, my blue jeans are thick with sand burs as he comes walking out of the big cooler closing the door and handing me a cold one.
He says anything left of you, I said, I’ll recover, he says could you recover fast, we just got a seventy and a 90-pound cabbage order. Now, I can’t wait to find my favorite head of cabbage.
~ The trout whisperer