The Great Orange Hope

It is no secret to those who know me how much I love pumpkin anything.  I get excited when the Pumpkin Pie Blizzards come out at Dairy Queen.  Thanks to Yankee Candle, my house can smell like pumpkin spice or pumpkin pie 365 days of the year.  I even like to take a shower with pumpkin spice shower gel.  I guess you could say that I'm obsessed with pumpkins.
For the past few years I have tried to grow pumpkins.  Last year we planted the seeds and nothing.  A lot of flowers.  But no pumpkins.  Two year before, I planted some seeds in the ground and nothing grew.  Or so I thought.  As I was pushing the mower through the grass in our backyard, I heard a hollow thud.  I had run over a pumpkin.  I felt terrible.  My pumpkin growing experience has been pretty much hit or miss.
This year we grew a hodgepodge of veggie.  Peas, onions, tomatoes, peppers.  My husband  let me plant corn near the front door.  He was okay with it he said because the stalks could dry and become some free autumn decorations.
I'm always harassing Mr. P to let me plant food in our front flower beds.  He has been hesitant since we had tomato plants take over one of our front beds one year.  The plants became the second coming of Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors.  My husband had to reinforce the plants three times because they kept on breaking the wooden reinforcements.
And my pumpkin plants are growing.  My coveted babies.  The Great Orange Hope I call them.  Grow babies grow.