It’s 1953, and you are coiled up on the wicker loveseat on your front wrap around porch. The heady breeze of the rural landscape takes hold, and you are mesmerized with the beauty of your fresh white pumpkins on display. Freshly fallen leaves float down, as your cinnamon vanilla tea calms your very soul. This, my friends, is Primitive Country Autumn in a bottle. Back when life was so simple.