Day 10--Rose's triumph: How does her pumpkin grow?

"Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air."                             -George Bernanos

July 3rd--on the fence, look at its thick neck!

When I first began gardening years ago, I remember being puzzled by the term volunteer, but I've long since grown to love the term and such plants. A volunteer is a plant that you didn't plant, thus it "volunteers" to grow in your garden.  I suppose it's somewhat like a weed, but a wanted weed.  Some volunteers come from nearby self-sowing plants, others are carried by the wind or by an animal, and some come from compost.  Volunteers are usually hardy stock and sometimes inspirational. If you like Granny Smith apples, you can thank an Australian named Maria Ann Smith and her compost pile!

July 5th--sling theory

Our most noteworthy volunteer of the 2015 season came from last year's Halloween pumpkin. Busy with costumes and festivals, we never did carve him. So, he graced our front porch for four months--through Thanksgiving, past Christmas (when he felt unseasonable but was still going strong)  into January, when I finally noticed his bottom starting to puddle.  At which point I launched him into the nearest bed--done!  I always feel better when I can throw something into the yard instead of into the garbage can. 

July 6th

I forgot all about him until this May when dozens of baby squash-like plants gathered in my sunflower bed. I think I am more lenient in the garden than with the rest of my life--I indulge my plants more than I would my children. Often I let squatters this go in the garden, even when I have other plans for the bed.  "Let interesting things go and see where they take you..." is my general philosophy.  Yes, sometimes the end result is chaos or disappointment, but what's a garden without a little mystery?  That's the way I like mine.

July 8th morning--outgrowing the harness

And that's how the pumpkin vine got its start. Then in early June, while the children and I were away visiting DC, Briggs trained one such vine off our walkway and onto the fence. I guess he figured it would save space and get it out of the way. He prefers a tidy walkway and squash vines are rather bossy. I imagine he thinks I'm too much of a pushover in the garden. 

July 8th afternoon, new theory!

So when we came back from our trip, the vine was on the fence, and one morning Rose noticed it.  Once she found out it was a pumpkin vine, it was instantly crowned the birth mother of this year's Halloween pumpkin.  Not one to crush plants or a ten-year old's dreams, I shut up.  But I knew the odds.  If you know squash vines, they can be big on bravado and leaf production but disappointing in performance.  They typically put out a long vine and then a dizzying succession of blooms...one after another after another.  Most never get pollinated and those that do often don't amount to much.  

July 10th morning

However, Rose is tender-hearted and full of big hopes.   She loves to nurture things--whether it be eggs left on the counter overnight for a recipe or our orange tabby.  Who tucks in a cat?  Someone like Rose.  Amazingly, the cat allows it!  So, Rose adopted the pumpkin vine and began checking for pumpkin starts every morning.  "This one is going to be our pumpkin!" she'd declare, only to watch him shrivel the next day.  Until one day, she insisted "I have a good feeling about this one."  And just like the cat, the vine succumbed to Rose's charm.  The pumpkin grew, slowly at first, but purposefully.

July 10th afternoon

I was cautiously optimistic, but concerned that I now had a full-sized pumpkin baby growing on the top of the fence.  "Oh well, we'll figure it out,"  Who knew that pumpkins grow fat so quickly?   Looking back at the pictures on my phone, each one included the date, so I tracked the pumpkin's progress over time. The difference in the seven day window from July 3rd-July 10th is amazing!  

July 11th 

During this week, we were forced to develop strategies to keep this guy safe.  My "sling theory" worked for three days, but then the growing weight of the pumpkin began to worry me.  My solution was the "board theory," leaving the sling in place as a safety net. This worked for two more days, until I noticed the sling was actually strangling the pumpkin, like a puppy that had outgrown his collar.  I nixed the sling. Then, the board began to bend.

July 12th

So, David dreamed up the current "box on top of board propped up by ski pole" theory, which is the best theory yet and still working.  I think it's going to get us where we need to go.  However,  a piece of me still fears that I will one day walk out the door to smashed pumpkin.  After all of this nurturing and monitoring, I am emotionally invested in this pumpkin. I don't think I've ever put this much thought and planning into a single vegetable!

July 13th, storm moving through...

Also, I don't think I've ever watched any vegetable grow this intently.  Because he sits waist-high on the walkway, he's conspicuous!  It's been fun to watch him quickly expand then more slowly turn from dark green to a brilliant pumpkin orange. I'm not sure if he will hold up until Halloween in this hot weather---October seems a long time away.  Time will tell.

July 16th

Yes indeed, I've written an entire entry on a single pumpkin--but he's a special pumpkin: the magic blend of a ten-year old's hopes and serendipity. Plus, there are lessons to be learned and joy to be had in nurturing both children and pumpkins.  They require patience, hope, guidance, and creativity.  And both grow big before you can blink.

I never thought much about pumpkins, just knew that they somehow magically arrived in the stores in each October.

Now I know how the real magic happens in the garden long before then...  

July 18th

"We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today." — Stacia Tauscher

Rose and Pascal