By the time Bryon and I married in 2013, my pumpkin-growing process was a familiar tune. I’d start the seeds in January, then plant them in late March near the apple trees with lots of rich compost and natural amendments. The vines would wind their way across the long driveway to make the most of its radiating warmth.
Our backyard wedding in October heavily featured homegrown pumpkins, including Musquee de Provence—also known as fairy tale, Long Island cheese, miniature whites, and an interesting squash called Tennessee sweet potato (picture #3 above). Over the years, I planted other squash and pumpkins: New England sugar pie, Cinderella, Lady Godiva—known for its naked seeds, orange cushaw, delicata, butternut, and the oddly shaped Gelber Englischer.
Many a morning, I’d creep through the vines, despite their scratchy embrace, impatient for the first sign of fruit. Then time would pass, and suddenly pumpkins as big as basketballs would peek through the leaves. In addition to using the selection of squash to adorn the front steps and dining table or sharing with friends, several of the fairy tales became home to small succulent gardens, the end result perfect for décor, gifts, and even charity auction items. (An idea I sadly discovered the year after our succulent-filled wedding.) Of course, squash also provide yummy treats: pumpkin fondue, curries, soups, toasted seeds, cinnamon rolls, and dog food add-ins.
For years, I rarely had to buy any pumpkins. Just a carver one year, and a couple of small ones here and there when I decided the miniatures took up too much valuable real estate. Not the case this year. Though I planted squash at both our San Leandro house before selling and at the family home where we stayed during our transition, I didn’t get the joy of watching them grow, harvesting, and deciding how to make the best of them.
Yet between purchases and gifts, we’ve amassed a lovely assortment of winter squash this season. Luckily, we live a short walk from an organic farm, where Bryon has been working, with an impressive pumpkin patch that provided most of our collection. We bought a neat blueish pumpkin from another farmer, and a neighbor shared several squash and gourds from her garden after a Lions Club dinner. I’ve never had such diversity among my pumpkins.
But believe me, I’ve already started shopping for more seeds and thinking about how many varieties I can get away with growing. I just need to get Bryon started on my green house, since the small one we have isn’t nearly big enough.
