Jill Wagner has sadly retired from writing. While we look for a replacement for her column (third Wednesday of the month), we’re publishing some of her greatest hits. This week, “Great Pumpkin” from last August.
I’m not sure if anyone else in town is trying to grow a giant pumpkin, but if you’re looking for competition, you’re probably going to win this year. I’ve planted three bunches of giant pumpkins, including the seeds from a giant pumpkin I bought at the farmer’s market last fall, but only one plant is still growing. That one plant finally bloomed last week, so it can’t compete with the big boys that go to the state fair.
I grew several pumpkins indoors this spring before the last frost and lost a few as I was hardening off the plants. Only one survived a week or two after transplanting. The early start was supposed to give me a head start on the pumpkin growing season, but after the frost I started a few more hills of new seeds.
Pumpkin 1 was planted near the fence in full sun, near my horseradish plants. It was clearly a strong plant, a vigorous vine with sturdy leaves that grew every day. They veered out of my yard and the vine grew into the neighbor’s yard. My neighbor was excited by the appealing prospect of sharing parental duties for a giant pumpkin and agreed to joint custody. Unfortunately, the vine, which stretched across her walkway, took on a poor state and was sent to the compost heap.
Pumpkin 2 was also planted near the fence. Last year the knife sharpener shared some seeds with me from the giant pumpkin he bought from the neighbor’s stand that sold 100-pound pumpkins at the farmers market. After slicing his big boy for a giant carving, this year he kindly gave me some seeds to try. This particular plant may not be in the best soil, as it is slow growing and small. I wonder if the seed was switched, as this pumpkin plant just won’t budge. But several flowers have attracted lots of bees in the last week, so plump bulbs should appear soon.
Whatever grows should be noticeable because it has climbed over the fence and the fruit is no longer on the ground and is caught in the chain link fence.
Pumpkin 3 has started to take over my garden. Without a dog, the vines have the freedom to move wherever they feel most comfortable. The sturdy leaves of the large Atlantic pumpkin line our garden and provide shade. Many blossoms have been pollinated and soon the selection of the strongest baby pumpkin will be made.
I recently learned that growing giant pumpkins is a sport. Casually participating in improving the fitness of a pumpkin through natural elements and personal interventions such as shading, sheltering, fertilizing, pruning, and watering over the course of a summer for a competition is a sport. Unlike cheerleading and marching band, which are “activities,” growing a giant pumpkin for a competition is a real sport.
I’ve set out to make my pumpkin from last year even bigger. It was on display in front of my house last year in my Scarecrow Invasion exhibit: “It’s a great pumpkin.” Maybe you were the person who voted for it in the Historical Society and Arts Alliance Invasion contest. It was the 40-pound pumpkin centerpiece that stuck out of our front yard at Linus van Pelt’s feet. Even though it’s a feather in the cap compared to the giant pumpkins, my pride still shines.
This sporting year, I hope to grow a bigger pumpkin than last year, and maybe one day I’ll have to have a forklift haul my pumpkin to the front yard.
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