September in Illinois means one thing: the fields are alive with the sound of combines (sang to the tune of the Sound of Music). Corn and soybeans dominate our landscape, but let’s not forget the unsung hero of fall—🎃 pumpkins. Thanks to the Libby plant in Morton, IL there are pumpkin fields dotted with orange sphere’s soon to harvested and transported by semi to the factory.

But on our little .36 acre lot, it’s harvest season too.

Most of our seeds are from a company called Baker Creek. It’s an heirloom seed company and I have grown some of the tastiest tomatoes and best butternut squash from Baker Creek seeds. This year, after reading the description on the Baker Creek website, I decided to grow a cucumber called China Jade. I planted two seeds. Two little seeds. One began to grow. The other didn’t. So . . . I planted another seed. It began to grow and before I knew it, we were buried in cucumbers. These plants were hell-bent on producing as many cucumbers as possible. And these were the longest cucumbers I have ever seen. Most were 18-24 inches in length. I’m not a cucumber fan but hubby does like cucumbers and claims they were very good. I do, however, like pickles as do others in our house. While they aren’t necessarily ideal for pickling, they are tasty, and pickling was a perfect way of preserving the overabundance of cucumbers on the vines. I might need to try a different cucumber next year.

A few months ago, we purchased a freezer and we didn’t go small. While not the biggest freezer in the store, it was a close second. It is now bursting with tomatoes, butternut squash, jalapeños, and Sserranos. And I can’t forget the shredded zucchini that is destined for muffins, pancakes, breads, and the occasional sauce that may or may not be edible.

The berries? We had zero blueberries and I had to plant a new blackberry bush which was not likely to produce this year. The strawberries and raspberries were picked and eaten by the kids. I mean they would stand in the garden picking the berries and eating them right off the plants. While it was nice to have organically grown fruits in the garden that they could eat, it also means the plants didn’t produce enough for the freezer. But I’m learning, and will make sure to prune everything and bribe them with compost and emotional support next year.

Asparagus, on the other hand, went rogue. It exploded out of the ground like it had something to prove. We’re not allowed to harvest it yet (gardening rules say “patience”), but if this year’s crop is any indication, next summer we’ll be knee-deep in spears and I will be desperately searching for the best way to preserve asparagus without losing my mind.

And because I clearly needed more produce, we hit up our favorite apple orchard and came home with three pecks of apples. Purchased by the 1/2 peck.

I had no idea what a peck was, so I looked it up: 10–12 pounds. Per peck. That’s 30+ pounds of apples. I spent two days peeling, cooking, and canning applesauce like a woman possessed. Final tally: 28 pints canned, 3.5 in the fridge, and 2 already devoured. Or was it 4 in the fridge? I’ve lost count. I don’t even like cooked fruit, so I outsourced taste-testing to the rest of the family. They gave it a thumbs-up, which means I’m either a culinary genius or they’re just really polite.

Now, let’s talk economics. Gardening is not a money-saving venture—at least not in our yard. Raised beds, soil, seeds, plants, jars, lids, seals, apples… it all adds up. I could’ve bought applesauce at the store for a fraction of the cost. But here’s the thing: everything we grow is organic, and there’s something deeply satisfying about knowing exactly what’s going into our bodies (and our compost bin). So now we’re asking the big question: Should we plant apple trees? Maybe peaches? Plums? We’ve got the space to start our own World of Weeks orchard. But do we have the stamina? The sanity? The squirrel-proof fencing? I don’t think squirrel-proof fencing even exists.

And now I’m off to search the cost of fruit trees and learn how to can my own chocolate syrup. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?!

Stay tuned. The fruit may be questionable, but the stories are a guarantee.