Our Homegrown Halloween

It's rather unlikely that Halloween would be one of my favorite annual celebrations.

For starters, I don't particularly like the dark or things that go "bump" in the night. Scary movies terrify me (I usually end of throwing my popcorn)! I try to limit the amount of sugar and processed foods my children eat, so hoarding vast amounts of candy doesn't really jive with my nutritional philosophies. I really don't like dressing up in costume. Black and orange are my least favorite colors, and I have absolutely no patience for rude trick-or-treaters.

But wait--don't label me a bah-humbug just yet--because despite all of my moaning and groaning, there happen to be two reasons I actually really enjoy Halloween.
They are: A) my son, and B) my daughter.

My three-year-old and five-year-old are truly, madly, deeply in love with Halloween. Beginning November 1st, they spend 364 days planning their perfect costumes, and on the 365th day, they revel in trick-or-treat delight. As I observe them bounding up and down our avenue's narrow sidewalks, squealing with glee, my heart melts.


Here they are in this year's costumes: Mario (obvious), and our cat, Winston (not so obvious unless you know our cat... and then you know that she looks JUST like him)! The fleece cat costume was lovingly hand-made by my mother; Mario arrived by UPS courtesy of Costume Express. I guess when you're a full-time working mom, some things just have to go by the wayside. Regardless, my son was thrilled beyond words with his polyester, made-in-China ensemble.

Despite my misgivings about his outfit, I decided that this year I was going to spin Halloween my way by adding a little "Pocket Square Farm Flair!" Inspired by pumpkins we grew in our garden, I decorated our "farm" table with a length of burlap and a runner-sized cut of a modern/autumn cotton print.

Kitchen chairs were carried out to the front lawn. The vintage iron seat at the head of the table is one of my favorite yard sale treasures. I bought it for $3, and would you believe the woman selling it actually tried to talk me down to $2?


Roses from my recent "fall flush" rested casually in antique glass vases.



Candlelight flickered through assorted Mason and jam jars, casting a gentle, warm glow as the sun began to set. All of these decorations were items I happened to have on hand, although I did pot some fresh pansies just for the occasion. I love fall flowers punctuated with mini-pumpkins (I admit that these smaller ones I did not grow... maybe next year)!

Bales of straw, handed down from a good friend, lined our stone path. This set the stage for trick-or-treaters (and kept them away from our designated dining area). We had no idea, as we arranged them on the lawn, how fun it would be to all sit together on the bales of straw after dinner. Suddenly, passing out the traditional Halloween loot and visiting with neighbors had a whole new down-on-the-farm feel... smack dab in the middle of the city.

I think we may just have a new family tradition!

Moo Moo the Milk Cow

My son, Mason, is quite the enthusiastic gardener. His special brand of "pitching in" around Pocket Square Farm usually involves his 3 foot long child's shovel and sprays of dirt flying in all directions. His commitment to soil removal can be witnessed in many a raised bed... and among my flowers... and even in the middle of the lawn. We're working on this.

Nevertheless, I love that he loves to "help" around the yard. He's been especially interested in our recent garden expansion and developments, mainly because most of them have occurred just outside his bedroom window. Whereas he used to have a view of our neighbor's stucco garage, a sad patch of overgrown lawn, and various discarded garden accoutrements, he now awakens to the sights of raised beds, our beautiful berry arbor, pumpkins, and--of course--our vintage bathtub full of basil.

Although Mason never once questioned the presence of a cast iron bathtub squatting in a pool of gravel in our front yard, he was disturbed by another, more pressing issue.

"Mama, if we have a farm now at our house, we need to get some farm animals," he announced.

"Of course we should, and we will," I replied. "Remember, we're going to get chickens just as soon as we can get a hen house in order," I reminded him.

"But Mommy," he whined, "we need a bigger animal than just chickens. What we need is a cow! Every farm should have a cow!" he proclaimed with conviction.

I agreed whole-heartedly that every farm should, indeed, have a cow. Then I explained in five-year-old terms that our city ordinances did not exactly allow for the raising of cattle.

"Well, I can take care of that!" Mason announced. And suddenly, he was rummaging through his desk, retrieving scissors, crayons, paper, tape, and an errant toilet paper role. He began coloring and snipping, perched on the edge of his chair like a little bird, tongue sticking out licking his upper lip in extreme concentration. Tiny scraps of paper fell like snowflakes at his feet, littering the floor beneath him. This is typical; I walked away and left him to his own devices.

Our house was oddly quiet for quite some time. It must have been at least 40 minutes before his project was complete... and anyone who has a busy 5-year-old knows that 40 minutes of peace and quiet is somewhat akin to an eternity in the parent space-time continuum. At last Mason emerged, triumphant, from his bedroom; a wide, flashing grin spread across his face. I wasn't sure whether to be excited or terrified about what he was hiding behind his back.


"Mommy, meet Moo Moo the Milk Cow!" he laughed, presenting our new family pet.

Although Moo Moo can't exactly graze in our pocket-sized "pasture," she now hangs day and night in Mason's bedroom window... where she is most definitely part of our tiny family farm.

All Squashed Out

My friend and gardening partner in crime, Brett, recently declared himself to be "all sqaushed out." At first I was mildly offended... and then I realized that I am--in fact--all squashed out, as well.

Our families have been eating zucchini as part of practically every single shared dinner since, say, May. We've baked, roasted, grilled, seasoned, and steamed them. The massive green squash have been chopped into chunks... and rounds.. and half-moons... and we're running out of ideas. Let it suffice to say that I could happily wait until next May to eat another zucchini. With the recent heat wave, however, I'm facing a whole new round of them!

What to do with these confounded cucurbits? Aside from sharing with family and friends, my second favorite way to dispose of all that squash (and trick my kids into eating it) is to bake zucchini bread. Here's my most recent loaf.


I actually prefer to pour the batter into muffin tins to produce mass quantities of grab-and-go breakfasts and snacks. You can make the recipe with or without the nuts (my family prefers without but I prefer to sneak in a little extra protein by including them). In my book, zucchini muffins are a tried-and-true back-to-school remedy: take two in the morning and you'll get through recess without a growling tummy!

The entry below is my mom's classic recipe with an updated name. Don't choke when you see the amount of sugar in these babies. They're worth the calories! Remember you're eating your veggies, too. You could also try upping the nutritional factor by incorporating some whole wheat flour.

"All Squashed Out" Zucchini Muffins

Ingredients:
3 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup oil
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. baking powder
2 cups grated zucchini
3 cups flour
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)

Directions:
Beat eggs in large bowl or stand mixer until foamy. Add all remaining ingredients and mix well. Pour batter into a greased 9" x 5" loaf pan or lined muffin tins. Bake for 1 hour for a loaf or 20 minutes for muffins at 350 degrees. If making a loaf, be sure to test the center to be sure it's cooked through before turning off the oven. You definitely don't want it to be gooey inside.

Store up to a week in a ziplock bag; they probably won't last that long!

Garden of Neglect and Prosperity

It has been almost a month since my last post. Did you miss me? Did you even notice I was away? If you are like my children, you may think I have picked up house and relocated to an entirely different planet altogether, the one populated by full-time working moms. A month into the school year, I feel like a mama bird who has left the nest prematurely.


But at the heart of motherhood lies self-sacrifice, and we do what we must to provide for our families. Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go... Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Repeat.

Aside from my human children, there are a few other dependents who have been nearly-abandoned in the transition: my vegetables. After a month of uncharacteristic neglect, my beds were overgrown into a tangled mess. Some seedlings had been lost, victims of our recent heat wave. "Pocket Square Farm is dying!" I wailed dramatically to my book club gals.


This weekend, however, I finally etched out some time for myself--and my garden. With shears gripped firmly in my gloved hand and nervous apprehension in my heart, I trudged out to my raised beds to take a closer look.


First I spied the carrots hiding patiently, bunched together in the dark, damp soil...

...waiting to be pulled from the earth. These will be scrubbed, chopped, and tossed into a hearty vegetable soup on this balmy autumn evening.


In front of and behind the carrots, squash blossoms and marigolds punctuate the sea of green with their energetic bursts of rust and gold.

From the mid-section of the farm, pumpkin vines stampede hurriedly over gravel, bark mulch, and boxes, racing to the edges of the garden. Pumpkins of all shapes and sizes, still quite green, rest sporadically strewn here and there. We are hoping they will change color by the end of the month, just in time for a Homegrown Halloween.


Seedless watermelon and Twice as Nice Cantaloupe lounge--heavy, round, and full--among their browning vines and foliage. They need to ripen quickly before the colder weather hits.



Just next to them, I uncover a few of my warm-weather friends, the ones I planted hastily at the end of August, just in case we experienced an unseasonably warm fall. We did, and they grew: Neon Purple eggplant, Early Girl tomatoes, slicing cucumbers, and Big Daddy bell peppers are sprinkled here and there amidst my scribbly garden mess, like diamonds in the rough.



Much to my children's surprise, our recent hot weather brought yet another round of strawberries. They were few and far between, and they were rather small, but they were delicious; we were delighted.


Meanwhile, in another section of the garden, I discover that my cool-weather crops are taking hold. Furry emerald artichoke leaves fan out like prehistoric ferns. I planted three of these this year, though we haven't had any artichokes yet.

Swiss chard, something I've never tried before, decorates a small, sunny patch with its colorful, crimson stems and veins. Flavor aside, I think this leafy green is worth growing for its sheer beauty.

Our first baby cauliflower presents its delicate, white head...

... and Eureka lemons and limes swell, weighing down their tender branches. The limes hadn't even begun to grow the last time I had time to tour my garden.


And towering over it all like sentinels, in stark contrast against the seething blue sky, mammoth sunflowers seem to touch the fleeting clouds. They must be protecting the rest of the garden while I am away.
This bloom is just beginning to open, inviting cheer with its buttery petals, reassuring me that my family and my garden are going to be just fine.

It has been a month since school has started. My family has survived. I have survived. I realize that Pocket Square Farm has survived, too. I guess I can be a full time mother, and a full time teacher, and a full time farmer!

At last, I feel peaceful.