Pumpkins

I started and ran a community garden for a short time.  I learned that there is one vegetable that is the bane of peaceful coexistence when 400 square foot parcels are cheek-by-jowl.

Pumpkins

Pumpkins, they sneak into your house, smother the cat, drink your last beer and kick the dog on the way out.

Modern pumpkins were bred to have the storage life and edibility of a blow-molded, orange plastic beachball.

The pumpkin "gardener" wants to do something fun with their kids.  They till up their patch, plant some seeds and disappear for four months.  Weeds flourish and go to seed.  The leaves on the vines turn mucky white.  Neither hide-nor-hair is seen of the gardener.  That is when the pumpkin vines sneak into your house.

Gardeners cultivate gardens.  Pumpkin growers are absentee landlords.  They do not grow salads.  They grow crops.

Two weeks before Halloween high school kids drive through the fence and steal the pumpkins.  Some they smash in situ.  They smash the rest in places chosen to maximum effect.

I have a modest proposal.

If you feel compelled to plant pumpkins in a community garden, plant a variety that is edible...you know, like food.

A few suggestions for varieties are:

Baby Pam

Winter Luxury

Long Island Cheese

Marina Di Chioggia

Dickinson