Smashing pumpkins

What do leftover pumpkins mean to goats, cows, and the economy?

I have an almost pathological problem: the need to say "yes" to things even when I know I have too much on my plate. So, when an unknown number popped up on my phone last Monday, and a man named Luis was on the other line with an offer I couldn't refuse, I once again fell prey to that need to do too much.

"Hi, is this the farm? My name is Luis. I work for King Soopers (our local Kroger store) and have some leftover pumpkins. Do you feed pumpkins to your animals?"

Well. Well. Well. Yes, yes, we do.

Pumpkins are a perfect addition to our fall feeding. Raw pumpkin seeds are natural anti-parasitics and dewormers, and the meat of the pumpkin is nutritious and packed with vitamins and minerals that buttress the animals' immune system right as the cold starts. Bonus: the goats and chickens love them. They provide treats AND entertainment for the animals. It's like dinner and a show all in one orange ball.

Every fall, I post on NextDoor, asking our neighbors in the surrounding subdivisions to drop their spare jack-o-lanterns and pumpkins (as long as they haven't been chemically treated or painted) off for the goats. The post usually results in a line of cars snaking down the road, with people pulling up to take turns chucking pumpkins over the six-foot-wire fence with a satisfying "PLUMP." They take pictures of the girls, who do their best to pose as charmingly as any goat can for the next snack. This year the response was a little light.

We got neighborhood pumpkins in ones and twos, but a big haul from the grocery store will take a real chunk out of our monthly feed bill. I couldn't say no. But, I knew the packed week already had the mid-term election and post-election analysis, work lunches and meetings, and a full kiddo schedule. So, of course, I decided to sandwich it between everything else. Why not?

After leaving the TV station Wednesday, I ran home and donned a hoodie to go pick up the spoils with barely enough time to head to school for pickup. It was sure to be fine. Once Luis led me back to the loading dock to see what we were dealing with, I realized it could be trouble.

In four massive boxes, each fully occupying its own pallet, sat at least one thousand pounds of pumpkins, just waiting to move to the back of my truck.

Pumpkins are tough for grocery stores to order correctly to meet demand. The process for ordering is primarily based on previous years' sales. Although technically a "food" item, pumpkins are rarely consumed. Seasonal gourds are an optional item for shoppers, so they're the first item scratched off the shopping list when budgets are tight.

In economics, we would say pumpkins have a very "elastic" demand - price increases and decreased budget availability significantly impact the number of pumpkins sold or left in the back of the storehouse. Additionally, pumpkins have a significant markup from farm to store, so having leftovers is better for the bottom line than running out of stock.

The number of stores that have called me in the last few weeks trying to unload excess pumpkins tells me that Colorado household grocery budgets are tight. The Colorado Sun reports that the cost of Colorado's five most commonly purchased food items - milk, hamburger, bread, eggs, and coffee - has risen 35% in the last five years. If you're a mom trying to feed your family, the burger goes in the cart, but the pumpkin doesn't make the cut.

But, I was grateful that King Soopers called me to ensure they were minimizing food waste. Our goats don't know about food inflation, nor do they stay up at night reading about changes in the consumer price index like I do. Goats only see their favorite orange orbs smashing into the ground to reveal delicious meat and seeds, so they prance around for joy.

With the help of two new produce department buddies, Alex and Tino, I backed up my truck and loaded all thousand pounds of pumpkin into the bed on a tarp. Some of the pumpkins were starting to rot, so by the time I left, I had a slick of orange slime down my shirt. Being covered with rotten pumpkin while in full TV makeup makes me feel like I live on both ends of the spectrum; it's healthy not to take to either side too much.

Because of the sheer number of gourds, I was unable to unload before heading to the school to pick up my boys. I'm sure this is just the start of my embarrassing antics ruining their social life, so picking my kids up with a truck bed full of half-rotten pumpkins didn't phase them, although I wonder what the other mothers thought when they realized I smelled like a spoiled Thanksgiving pie.

When we got home, the goats enjoyed their treats, and I even had enough left to drop some off at my neighbor friend’s house. Her Highland cow, Micky, loves pumpkins too.

Often, saying "yes" when there's too much going on can be another burden, but occasionally, it can be a good reminder of what really matters.