Wednesday, September 30, 2009


PUMPKINS IN THE AIR


Some people get up in the morning and say a prayer or do their stretchy exercises or just go and have breakfast; these days I look out the window to see if the pumpkin is still there.

Not that it's an obsession or anything, get away, its just that I've never grown a pumpkin this far before without a passing simian biting through the stem and loping off, arms full of the apish equivalent of the Hope diamond.

This year though, I planted a couple of pumpkin plants inside my new fence, just to give pumpkinity another try, because when it comes to vegetables I'm willing to perform an identical action a number of times and expect a different result, as per Einstein's definition of insanity, like Albert himself no doubt would have done if he'd had a garden up here, but by the same manic means he at last arrived at his own relativity theory, which, like pumpkins in my garden, was insane for its time.

Unlike Albert, I planted my pumpkins rather late, though still in season, since I'm not that insane, partly thinking: well, hell, some pumpkins might at least distract monkey attention from my onions, which seems to have worked so far. An opportunistic pumpkin that had sprouted from the compost pile grew to quite a size before it was snatched by the beasts well in advance of ripeness. Monkeys are not known for gourmetish discernment.

It being so late in the summer when I planted two baby pumpkin plants I didn't expect much, pumpkinwise. Between them they produced one smallish pumpkin, which even the monkeys haven't bothered, but at some point one of the pumpkin tendrils found the net of the fence, when the whole plant began to climb, and once it had those many square meters of airiness all to itself it soared like a bird, put out big fat round leaves and sunny blossoms, and before too long there was a healthy, happy plumpy pumpkin, dangling way up in the air.

I've never seen an airborne pumpkin before, except briefly when we used throw them at each other when I was a garden-raiding kid, much like the monkeys that are imposing my karmic justice on me now, albeit more severely than I deserve. I have more than repaid my debt to pumpkin society. Full karmic interest should suffice, don't you think, Siva? But to get back to the pumpkin at hand, it seems happy up there, wingless though it is.

And by virtue of altitude it might just get past the monkeys, who, like their habituated human counterparts, do not look for pumpkins in the air.

9 comments:

wgaw said...

Great images; "dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to pray to the god of pumpkins".

R. Brady said...

Thanks wgaw; indeed, the pumpkin deity has all the makings of a tasty religion...

wgaw said...

absolutely, and we get to pray to the god of pumpkin pie

Chancy said...

This post demands a photo to prove your point.

I have never seen an airbourne pumpkin either.

Quick before the monkey gods catch on.

R. Brady said...

I'm in the office today, but if the pumpkin is still there tomorrow (w/no rain and some decent sunlight), I'll try to get a picture.

Tabor said...

I think gardening is the definition of insanity...but it is also an addiction.

R. Brady said...

An insane addiction with healthy and delicious rewards!

Apprentice said...

Please keep us posted as to the fate of the airborne gourd - still afloat?

R. Brady said...

No, the approach of hurricane #18 forced me to cut the pumpkin down rather than let it be blown down... it's deep asleep in the fridge now. Next spring I'll plant some pumpkins near the fence and encourage them to climb to their heart's content, maybe get some decent photos to post, of crowds of pumpkins in the air...