Every day I go to and fro past my garden when I do the chores in the barn and the chicken coops. It is a 20 x 40 foot space where I have a 10 foot mesh fence stapled/nailed to posts and it contains my pumpkin patch and 6 Blue Runner Ducks. The garden is all-out-lush, but not just with pumpkins. The non-pumpkins that have taken root have absolutely flourished. I should be quite proud.
The day that my family helped me to till and create the pumpkin patch ended with me declaring, after the last pumpkin seeds were tucked in atop the hills I’d hoed into place, “Because I am so grateful to everyone for their help today, I vow to keep this garden looking just as it is now.” This was an impressive and stunning vow to make, because the family knows my track-record.
Nearly 6 months later, I stand with my head hung in defeat and shame because I let us all down:
For many reasons, I was unable to keep my solemn vow, my pumpkin promise. Today I decided that I would do my best, but it wasn’t going to measure up to the declaration I’d made. You see, by now the chickens had decided that Pumpkin Wasteland was a wonderful place for breakfast, for lunch, and for dinner. The ducks had taken up residence in the garden and nicely stayed in their little corner all summer without bothering the jungle to the east. But in the past few weeks, some of the hens and often the peacocks, Fig & Jewel, would pop in for a visit and a snack.
Well, as they say, better luck next year. I am already plotting as to how I can redeem myself. Though the pumpkin patch managed a fair crop in spite of my neglect, it is not a proud day when a mom breaks a solemn vow to her family. So I am plotting now for next year’s chance at restoring my integrity.