My latest accidental pumpkin patch has perplexed me … while I know that I threw a pumpkin out to rot in hopes of a repeat of the spectacular surprise 2018 patch, I am not growing just pumpkins. In fact, while I can boast of a modest four pumpkins - and three of these quite small, I have somehow been growing at least two dozen yellow and green gourds. I did not plant gourds. I have no idea where they came from but they are beautiful and interesting…and prolific. More appear regularly and they hide better than the pumpkins. Cucurbita pepo is the scientific name of pumpkin, Cucurbita pepo ovifera is the decorative fancy schmancy gourd which is growing amongst the pumpkin vines. They are so closely related that I wonder if some sort of genetic “thing” happened.
God gave me my first accidental pumpkin patch three years ago and man, did I feel BLESSED. I’ve never been any sort of a gardener and suddenly I was a pumpkin farmer! I was out there fighting powder dust mildew and slugs, keeping them watered and safe from harm. They kept trying to grow into the street, so I was redirecting vines daily - they can grow more than a foot overnight. Those pumpkins gave me a sense of purpose and a feeling of joy during a very difficult time. I’d started a new job that, while it paid pretty lousy, I felt confident that God would take care of me financially and that it was a place where I could really give back. Unfortunately, it was a Viking slave ship masquerading as a ministry and I was one of many who were burnt out within the first six weeks. Those pumpkins, that beautiful pumpkin patch, were brimming with optimism that was much needed that late summer and autumn. That pumpkin patch taught me so many things about finding life after decay, rising up out of grief and misery and seeing the hope and goodness that could show up unexpectedly and hang around if I would just nurture it.
I tried to purposefully start a pumpkin patch the next year and managed to grow a vine or two. It was planted where I felt it should be, the “perfect” place or so I thought. The little vines flowered but it was always male flowers, so no fruit. I put the plant where I wanted it, tried to take care of it… but it did not grow. The best laid plans of mice and would-be pumpkin farmers don’t always work out. I was disappointed but I had other fruit in my life at that time. I’d wound up teaching where I was definitely making a difference. I had other fruit to marvel at and thank God for.
And so this year, I still wanted a pumpkin patch but I knew where it certainly was not going to grow...the place that I thought it should grow. I had a pumpkin that had survived past Christmas and into the later part of winter. One day I threw it out in the snow in the general vicinity (but safer, away from the road a little) that the first patch had grown. Spring came, the time of pumpkin vines came… and I didn’t see a plant starting at the proper time, so I assumed it was a flop. It was a season where I also had big decisions to make, a time where I really wanted to escape from charter schools and all the shenanigans. I had purpose, evidence that I was making a difference and yet my integrity, my ethics were challenged. I’m not wired to let that slack.
And so, a pumpkin vine started. It started small, didn’t seem like it would flourish...but I took care of it. I grew concerned when it was late July and I had not seen a female flower, but still I cared for the patch. Finally, one happy day, the first female flower arrived and I helped the process along with a Q-tip. Happily, the pumpkin that became the bigger one began to grow. I hovered and hoped, but it was a while before another female flow appeared. But then suddenly, mystifyingly, the gourds began to appear. Flower after flower blossomed and while I wasn’t seeing the females clearly, daily new baby gourds were growing. How could it be? I stopped wondering as they became more and more abundant.
The vines grew, they climbed the Rose of Sharon. Suddenly, I had truly “ornamental” gourds that grew dangling from the bush. How curious and how festive! While enjoying the novelty, I also had to battle the gastropod horde that came to feast, as well as the powder dust mildew that plagues the leaves. Beauty and bounty must be protected. To be blessed is wonderful, and diligent care is an expression of gratitude.
Back in the months after Pat passed away, I wrote a poem about how I was never much of a gardener (found here: https://glynis-p.blogspot.com/2016/11/not-much-of-gardener.html ). It was a poem about hope - about the toil put in a life and then that life suddenly abandoned and finding optimism in that barren dirt. I later had my first accidental pumpkin patch and it wasn’t lost on me that, with the Lord’s help, I had become a capable pumpkin farmer. I wrote about its death here ( https://glynis-p.blogspot.com/2018/11/the-death-of-accidental-pumpkin-patch.html ). It is so interesting that I find myself at this new place - having thought I had pumpkins and also growing gourds - not where I most desired to to try to grow them, but it the spot that the Lord had chosen before and chose again. Proverbs 16:9 “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.” Psalm 37:23 “The steps of a man are ordered by the LORD who takes delight in his journey.”
I can’t say anymore that I’m not much of a gardener, although I seem to do best with the family Curcubitae. I can see something new in myself that has developed, all starting with a blessing and then a desire to protect that blessing and bring it to harvest. Looking at my life in the past several years, God chose to lead me to getting my teaching license and I had just completed my master’s degree three weeks after Pat passed away - starting a career after 33 years of marriage, 4 grown daughters and 10 then, now 12 grandchildren. Likewise, my ability to garden came late - my plants didn’t start in mid-late spring - nope, my plants grew and flowered in the mid-late summer (and even autumn). It might also be seen as late, this new phase of my life which has been blooming. I chose to look for blessing in the new life and gaze with hopeful trust at the barren dirt, so I saw life spring from a rotted pumpkin in a pile of decaying leaves. I’ve been growing; my plants have been growing. They bloom and bear fruit; I’ve seen blossom and fruition spiritually and professionally. While the patch suffered from the attacks of slugs and mildew, I also struggled against trials and tribulations. I fought for the pumpkins/gourds, and I sincerely felt the Lord for me. The miracle of my pumpkin patch mirrors the growth and development of the new life.
I felt blessed and perfectly content being able to call myself “gardener” and growing pumpkins; God chose to give me gourds, too. Who knows what other awesome, fun and exciting things He might do? Look at the barren dirt, break up the fallow ground, and be amazed.
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