when pumpkins tell family stories in the backyard
Last autumn, I tried something my grandmother used to do: I gently scratched my initials into a young pumpkin, just as she did when I was a child. Watching those letters swell and scar over the weeks brought back memories of her garden—messy, wild, and full of laughter. But now, in our neatly regulated suburban community, my little act of pumpkin art raised eyebrows. Some neighbors saw it as charming nostalgia, a nod to simpler times. Others grumbled about 'damaging' plants and setting a bad example for kids.
It made me wonder: Are we losing the freedom to make our gardens personal, or are these rules protecting our shared spaces? My pumpkin, now proudly scarred, sits on my porch—a quiet rebellion against uniformity. It’s a small reminder that gardens can be living diaries, not just displays. Do you remember the gardens of your childhood? Were they wild and free, or carefully controlled? And in today’s world, which do we need more?
#gardeningmemories #pumpkinstories #familytraditions #Gardening
