Greetings, squadlings!
I promise I haven’t forgotten about you. I’m just lazy.
So. My dad grew a pumpkin.
That, my children, is not the pumpkin my dad grew.
This is.
Oh yeah.
I can’t tell you how much the pumpkin weighs, though I do know the answer, because there is a contest going on in town to guess how much the pumpkin weighs, and my blog links to my Facebook. Yes, I’m serious. I can tell you it’s about four feet wide and at least two feet tall. For reference, that picture of my dad sitting on the pumpkin: My dad is 5’9.
*UPDATE 11/9/2018: The pumpkin weighed 641 pounds*
This pumpkin is my fall aesthetic.
My dad thinks he planted the pumpkin sometime in April. It was taken out of our backyard yesterday and donated to a plant nursery for their fall festival.
The pumpkin lived in our backyard, where it had it’s own irrigation system (it had to be watered four times a day) as well as constant mouse traps surrounding it because, hey, we live in the country and those little bastards run rampant out there. Couldn’t have them eating the pumpkin.
The pumpkin was grown by my dad and his friend Clint, pictured above.
Every time I would go to my dad’s house for the past four months, he would always ask me if I had seen the pumpkin. I would go in the backyard and look, and let me tell you, that sucker was always getting bigger.
Ahh, where it all began.
Happy fall, squadlings!
sennajandy 