My fellow pumpkin widow

Tomorrow is the annual “Patch Tour”–a time when the illustrious Rocky Mountain Giant Vegetable Growers Group select a few of their fellow growers’ patches to tour and, if we’re being honest, SPY.

My pumpkin updates have been few and far between because we’ve been gone or busy this summer and I’ve barely noticed all the time Jamie has been spending in the pumpkin patch (I think that has been his evil plan). He lost one of his plants to a disease a couple of months ago so we’re down to one hallowed pumpkin he has christened after my mother: Christine.

There are a number of jokes I could insert here about hoping she’ll be big and round but I’ll refrain.

A couple of months ago, I was given some perspective on Jamie’s whole pumpkin obsession. It started out like most Sundays do. We attended church, came home and there was a message on our voice mail from a pumpkin grower named Tom who was visiting from Indiana.

“He wants to know if he can come over so I told him to swing by,” Jamie said.
“He’s five minutes away.”

I inwardly groaned but then Jamie offered: “He’s bringing his wife. She doesn’t like pumpkins, either.”

Finally an ALLY!

The phone rang just as they arrived. It was the chicken lady on the phone for me (another topic, another day) so I could only motion “hello” as Jamie led them to the pumpkin patch.

After wrapping up my call, I raced out there and called out to Tom’s wife Megan: “I heard you’re NOT a pumpkin grower?” She eagerly nodded. “Well get inside with me, right away!”

I’ve never seen a woman move so quickly.

We commiserated about (what else?) our pumpkin-obsessed husbands.

How we are the same:
Our husbands grow giant pumpkins. Duh.

How we are different: Tom grows over 400 pumpkins. Yep, you heard correctly.  He has a separate patch for his competition pumpkins and another field of them that they hand-plant over Memorial Day. These pumpkins are primarily used for genetics.

If you’re not a pumpkin geek, you have no idea what that means.I do, so that sadly means I am one of them.

I also discovered another way Megan and I are different.

“How long has Tom been growing?” I queried.
“Several years,” she replied.
“Wait. How long you have been married?” I countered.
“Four years.”

Yep. And even worse, she was on vacation in Denver and he managed to work in some patch tours.

I got a lot of things out of that visit but one thing in particular: perspective.

I never thought I’d say I’m grateful for just one giant pumpkin.

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