A few years ago, a friend of ours decided to go live wild on his mountain land. Got mistaken for Bigfoot by some campers. No ghillie suit required; just six weeks or so of sleeping rough and eating whatever didn’t run away fast enough.
I haven’t planted pumpkins for several years; my last batch of seeds were apparently cultivated in Halloweentown. We could practically watch the vines grow. Our dog (40kg of Olde English Bulldogge) was conpletely spooked out by them, and she’d give the plants both a wide berth and a side-eye. I’m pretty sure that one of the mail carriers disappeared, too.
