Growing Pumpkins

Pumpkin flirting with disaster.

This year we have pumpkins growing in various places, most prominently along the front driveway. We didn't plant the seeds directly, but last fall we did bring home some feed pumpkins for the livestock---more than they wanted to eat, so we have self-sown plants.

The vines along the driveway tend to reach toward the hot asphalt, thus jeopardizing their survival, so I've taken to noshing on any blossoms close to the edge whenever I travel past. The first pumpkin to develop actually selected a dicey location, right on the edge of the driveway, and so we have been watching it with trepidation for weeks now.

Pumpkin growing safely inside the fence.

It finally developed a full orange skin and I was beginning to wonder about harvesting it, but a UPS delivery today smashed it. Lucky livestock. This evening the chickens, goose, and goats are dining on fresh pumpkin flesh.

The more recently developed fruits have settled further back from the danger zone, and should be safe from vehicle traffic. What does one do with field pumpkins, anyway? I understand the flavor is not that of pie pumpkins, but what about pumpkin soup? Time, and a bit of research, will tell.

Blessed Rain

Early August, 2012. Rains have helped renew green forages.

When the severe drought in June brought an early fall, and many trees shed their leaf canopies entirely, I know we were not alone in praying for rain. Thankfully, while the Midwest continued to suffer, Middle Tennessee received rains throughout July. The expanse of dirt that filled our front acreage again became a pasture. Now, in early August, the rains are continuing to keep the grasses greened and growing.

Kids clearing brush behind the house.

A couple of days ago I moved the goat kids into a newly-overgrown area directly behind the house, not generally a pasture space--but since all of our lawnmowers have either four hooves or feet and beaks, it is trimmed by animals. The kids are doing a good job, now that they've gotten over being separated from their dams. I'm glad to have the weeds to feed them.

Our sweet potato patch.

The sweet potato plants are growing like gangbusters. They've taken over the little bed allotted to them, surmounted the chicken wire enclosure, and entered the surrounding field. I don't know if they're producing anything; the plants are so thick, it's hard to dig down there. I should probably add more bedding--hay or straw--for the roots to grow into, and will do this just as soon as a bale of straw wanders this way.

We are blessed with all the rain that has brought life back to the plants. This is a glorious place to live and a glorious time to be alive.