The Great Pumpkin; or Good Things Come from Neglect

Last fall, my Mom took Felix to her local garden store to pick out his Halloween Pumpkin.

Yes. I know he's wearing the fire helmet backwards. He wasn't yet two. So?

So, when I asked him if he wanted to cut out a face for his jack-o-lantern, he looked at me as though I'd suggested lopping off one of his limbs.

"I don't WANT you to cut it!" he yelled, indignant.

Needless to say, we didn't have a jack-o-lantern, which was okay, since we trick-or-treated with friends two towns over, and Mark would never leave a lit candle on our front porch. He's the paranoid smart one.

An uncut pumpkin will keep nicely on a front porch as November arrives in New England and the temperatures drop. Ours stayed right where it was through the first snows of December, into frigid January, until Mark plopped it in an adjacent plant pot so its eventual decomposition wouldn't stain the mahogany decking on the front porch.

And there it sat. Until I moved the whole pot to the backyard gate, intending to compost the contents and recycle the cracked plastic pot, in early April. Two weeks ago, I noticed that a small, fuzzy pumpkin leaf was sprouting from the ruins.
Two days ago, I saw that a full fledged pumpkin plant was living in the pot.

Today, it has a proper home.
So the cycle can continue...

Suburban Eden

I planted my first vegetable garden this summer. It is very likely that it's an overly ambitious first garden. I'm not good at reining myself in when it comes to new hobbies. I have four different types of tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, pole beans, English peas, yellow squash, carrots, pumpkins, and lettuce and a full complement of herbs in containers (except the cilantro, which arrived later than the rest).

Perhaps I should be selling farm shares? Probably not. I will, however, be canning, pickling, and freezing my vegetable bounty for most of July and August.

Of course this is all assuming that there's no tomato blight, drought, pestilence, my own debilitating laziness, bunnies... The litany of potentially destructive forces to be driven down upon my defenseless chicken-wired garden by vengeful gods is long and frightening. (Inflated sense of self, much?)

My neighbors must think I've finally gone 'round the bend. Sometimes I just stand there, looking down on my tiny plants with a maternal expression. Oh, look, Squash has a new set of leaves. Mama's so proud!

The best part right now is the early harvest. My herbs are going crazy and the lettuce is beautiful!

So green!