Okay, so I know Halloween is over. I've taken the witch off my porch, the light-up bats out of the trees, I even took down my favorite decoration - the skull door knocker that sings songs until his eyeballs pop out. Literally. I love that guy.
But one thing I haven't been able to do is take the pumpkins off the front porch. Maybe it's because I can justify them - well, they're a symbol of the harvest, and we haven't had Thanksgiving yet, right? Never mind that they're probably frozen to the front stoop by now.
Still, I think the real reason the pumpkins have survived is, well, because they made it through a season in my garden. That means they ARE survivors. For those of you who haven't heard me rant about my garden, let's just say it's usually the place where plants go to die. I've killed tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, three kinds of peppers, onions, strawberries watermelons and a particularly hardy lavender (Someone told me it would ward off rabbits and deer. Ha! They just saved it for dessert).
This year, I planted pumpkin and watermelon in the main garden. Almost immediately, the pumpkin vines ran all over the watermelon. I didn't care because it meant something, anything was growing in the garden. Yeah, just call me Martha Stewart. In the end, we had five - count 'em - five pumpkins this fall. It was the first successful gardening year ever (As long as you don't listen to my husband when he questions exactly what happened to the tomatoes, peppers, watermelon and strawberries.)
We carved two of the pumpkins. The kids glued sequins all over another one. But the last two are still looking plump and gorgeous on the porch. So, as far as I'm concerned, they can stay. Sure I passed them yesterday going into the house with a bag full of holiday-themed books.
Which gives me an idea...Christmas pumpkins, anyone?