While Will and Coleman napped yesterday, Maggie and I went pumpkin picking in the garden. For the past 2 summers we have had pumpkins volunteer to grow in our garden. We welcome them, although we have never planted them. This year we got quite the patch! They wound around every surface of the garden, choking the tomatoes, blending in with the zucchini, and even climbing the grape vines. And although I was frustrated with their greedy manners, I'm very happy with the harvest.
We picked them, washed them, and carried them out to our front porch where Maggie arranged them in families. As I placed them on the steps she would shout, "No, Mom!" in an exasperated tone and then explain to me how I had placed them completely wrong because this pumpkin was that one's Mommy or that pumpkin belonged with the other pumpkin because it was a baby sister. She has a gift for pumpkin genealogy.
She even insisted that a tomato be nestled in with these pumpkins because it was their baby. I told her that it wasn't their baby because it was a tomato, but she knew better.
The adopted tomato does indeed look happy, although due to his fragile constitution, I fear he shan't grace the porch for long.
Good job Maggie--mismatched clothes and all!