Thumbing through my North Carolina Our State Magazine this morning, wishing its pages of Blue Ridge Mountain pictures were one of Bert’s murals that I could leap into, I came across a beautiful spread of gorgeous glass-blown pumpkins. I reached for my phone to pull up the artist’s website so I could give them our November mortgage payment in exchange for goods, but I then remembered this venerable aphorism: THOSE WHO HAVE GLASS PUMPKINS SHOULD NOT HAVE A TODDLER, DO YOU HAVE A TODDLER? QUICK, HIDE THE STONES IN A VERY HIGH CABINET AND ALSO MAYBE MOVE OUT OF THE GLASS HOUSE