![\"\"](\"http:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1188\/2023\/11\/cropped-android-chrome-192x192-1-300x300.png\")
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You cleaned up the mess the day before you left.<\/span><\/p>\r\n The pumpkin we planted midsummer had taken over the yard, betraying the confines of its container and crawling three different ways through the manicured grass. Deceptively strong tendrils slithered their smooth, green spines into the soil below.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\r\n The dogs had carved a well-worn path past the raised garden beds and over one stem, snapping the gigantic, fuzzy leaves from their life source, leaving them limp and tattered like wayward umbrellas carried away and tossed by a storm.<\/span><\/p>\r\n Then came the infestation. Squash bugs everywhere, multiplying on leaves\u2013yellow, shrunk, and shriveled leaves\u2013no match for the sweltering Kentucky sun.<\/span><\/p>\r\n You decided it was time. You took a hatchet to the hollow stems. You ripped the tendrils from the clay. What was once vibrant and fast-growing had become muted and weak.<\/span><\/p>\r\n Despite the plant\u2019s impairment, it still produced a perfectly oval pumpkin, just as big as the ones you\u2019d find at a farmer\u2019s roadside stand.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\r\n You wiped your hands clean and leaned the shovel against the patio. Before you left, you placed the pumpkin\u2014perfectly orange on one side, underripe green on the other\u2014on the stoop by my front door.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\r\n * * *<\/span><\/p>\r\n I posted the pumpkin on a neighborhood forum. \u201cCurb alert: Perfectly good pumpkin free to good home.\u201d Someone else would enjoy it in a way I could not, someone unaware of the memories stored within it.<\/span><\/p>\r\n The shovel remained exactly where you left it. I couldn\u2019t bear to touch it. Seasons changed. The neighbor\u2019s gigantic maple tree molted its crunchy brown leaves, dancing down to eclipse the rusted blade.<\/span><\/p>\r\n You reached out on Halloween, said you\u2019d seen a girl in a French fry costume that wasn\u2019t nearly as good as the one I\u2019d fashioned out of a cardboard box and pool noodles that one year. I sat in my driveway alone with a bucket of candy, enveloped in smoke from a fire I couldn\u2019t keep going.<\/span><\/p>\r\n * * *<\/span><\/p>\r\n You returned like a volunteer plant, unexpected and irrepressible.<\/span><\/p>\r\n We decided to let the yard grow wild and see what would emerge if we removed our grasp.<\/span><\/p>\r\n Tiny, lobed leaflets cropped up among the once tidy lawn.<\/span><\/p>\r\n Pumpkins.<\/span><\/p>\r\n We placed small, wire baskets upside down over them, an attempt to preserve the burgeoning life force.<\/span><\/p>\r\n When one grew large enough to transplant, we gathered around it in the grass, sitting cross-legged, examining the virgin leaves with hands that felt too giant and eyes filled with hope.<\/span><\/p>\r\n You wiggled the surprise pumpkin sprout from the clay\u2026 its single, sturdy life source materializing from the point of a wayward seed.<\/span><\/p>\r\n The dogs watched curiously over our shoulders.<\/span><\/p>\r\n You cupped my hand, your fingers resuscitated roots reaching for my heart<\/span><\/p>\r\n <\/p>\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n Kelsey Blair<\/strong><\/em> \u00a0 \u00a0 Untaming Our Garden By Kelsey Blair You cleaned up the mess the day before you left. The pumpkin we planted midsummer had taken over the yard, betraying Continue Reading →<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6363,"featured_media":0,"parent":1310,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4897"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6363"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4897"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4897\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5432,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4897\/revisions\/5432"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1310"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4897"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\u00a0<\/h6>\r\n
\r\n![\"Kelsey](\"http:\/\/blogs.ubalt.edu\/welter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1188\/2024\/11\/Kelsey-Blair-1024x683.jpg\")
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Kelsey Blair is a West Virginia native living in Louisville, Ky. She has a Master of Arts in Writing from the Naslund-Mann Graduate School of Writing at Spalding University<\/em><\/p>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"