I lost my prize pumpkins, but not my hope
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A newly pollinated gourd on Hope #2 as of yesterday. Photo: Linh Ta/Axios
Linh here. Last week, I was in denial over the state of Hope #1 and Hope #2.
- This week, I'm ready to share my disappointment with you, but true to their names, this story doesn't end in total loss.
Flashback: I left for RAGBRAI a couple of weeks ago, and during that time, high heat, heavy storms and the wrath of squinnies befell my pumpkins.
- By the time I came back, my gourds were dead.
State of play: Unfortunately, there are a lot of word play jokes that come with naming something as loaded as the word hope: Hope is dead. We're losing Hope. Hope's gone.
Zoom in: I was the kid who, if I failed an assignment, I shoved it into my bag and pretended I got an A.
- But there's no hiding this. I have too little time to grow something meaningful by the fair. I have also been very (publicly) optimistic about my efforts. I bought a giant trampoline tarp to transfer them! I had Polymarket bets on their sizes! (Congrats to Michele for your guess of 12 pounds.)
- I didn't understand: Why was it so hard? People told me about random squirrels dropping pumpkin seeds in their yards, and voila — a beautiful orange gourd appears.
Still, Hope #1 and Hope #2 are actually healthy. The vines and leaves are huge and have taken over the yard. Vibrant flowers bloom every day.
- The bees actually pollinated a flower, and we unexpectedly found a gourd starting to grow on Hope #1. We pollinated a flower on Hope #2 because we can't help ourselves.
🌱 The bottom vine: I am no green thumb, but I know a little bit more than when I planted the seeds in April.
- Hope #1 and #2 live on. Just on their own time (or until Oct. 31).