This is our pumpkin harvest for 2014.
Pretty pathetic, isn't it? And utterly uncommon. Usually we produce a dozen really nice pumpkins in perfect sizes for Jack o' Lanterns and a sweet display under our mailbox.
Not this year.
And it just occurred to me, since I'm the carver and the displayer, that this could be my fault.
I'm working too hard, writing too much. I'm sucking all the creative energy out of the ground and into my body.
I haven't thought of it that way but perhaps that's the truth. This is my punishment for being absent from gardening for yet another summer. The tomatoes wouldn't ripen, the potatoes were eaten by bugs, the pumpkins didn't produce and even the sunflowers were patchy this year.
We cannot live by words alone, you know. We need our gourds too.
Time to squash the workaholic tendency. Next year, we will have a pumpkin bounty.
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