By PAUL HETZLER

You can paddle them, parade them around and boast about them. Of course you can eat them, too, and if you are not claustrophobic, maybe even live in one. If the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe thought it was great to find a rent-free boot, imagine how thrilled she would have been to occupy a giant pumpkin, where the food came with the home. I suppose she would have eventually needed a mold-remediation specialist, though.

As most of us know, Linus, the precocious, blanket-toting “Peanuts” character, waited faithfully for The Great Pumpkin all night on Halloween despite getting stood up every year. Perhaps his unwavering belief in the fabled pumpkin was spurred on by the fact that every October brings the world a bigger, and non-mythical, “great pumpkin.”

Of the 1.5 billion pounds or so of pumpkins grown annually in the U.S., only a very few are grown for size. Primarily within the last thirty years, giant pumpkin enthusiasts (that’s regular-size people; giant produce) have developed varieties that attain jaw-dropping proportions. And they (the produce, primarily) are getting bigger faster. In 1981 the world record was about 500 lbs., which jumped to over 1,000 pounds in in 1996, and then pierced the one-ton barrier in 2012.

We grow some pretty big pumpkins here in the U.S., but in recent years the Europeans seem to have the edge. Last year, Swiss grower Beni Meier set a world record with his 2,323-pound entry, and in 2016 at the Giant Pumpkin European Championship in Ludwigsburg, Germany, Mathias Willemijns of Belgium broke another world record with his 2,623-pound monster Atlantic pumpkin. (Now that would be a dream come true for Linus.)

Richard Wallace of Rhode Island was a close second, though, with a pumpkin that weighed in at 2,261 lbs. What becomes of all the runners-up? Well, beyond some cool photo opportunities, growers have made pumpkins into playhouses (probably rent-free, but I am not sure), and even paddled around in them like a canoe. Reportedly they do not make the most stable watercraft.

Growing big pumpkins begins with the right genetics, and you can bet the seeds from these record-holders will fetch a good price. Beyond that it is a lot of daily attention, especially later in the season when the developing pumpkins need copious amounts of water. These growers put in a lot of hours in their attempts at agricultural overachievement.

Being the scholarly lad he was, Linus probably knew that pumpkins are actually a type of winter squash, one of many varieties first selected for and cultivated by Native Americans. Squash, in fact, is an Algonquin word adopted by Europeans. We chose the Greek-based term “pumpkin” to describe the ribbed orange variety, mostly because “The Great Squash” didn’t have the right ring to it.

The Hubbard squash, and the small hard pie pumpkins we grow today are among the many squash types that the Iroquois were raising in this area at the time of first European contact. From ancient times right up to this day (or maybe tomorrow if they are busy this day), the Iroquois dry strips of pumpkin and squash for use in late winter after the storage life of most squashes has run its course. If old-time longhouses had dehumidifiers and thermostats, those pumpkins and squash could have lasted all winter.

Successful storage actually begins in the field or garden. Pumpkins and squash will last longer if you bring them in before the first hard frost (below 29F). Always pick them up supported from the bottom, and never carry them by the stem; if that breaks, rot will set in. For pumpkins, a 10-day hardening-off treatment of 80-85F at 80% humidity will help harden the rind and prolong storage life. This treatment isn’t necessary for butternut, turban and Hubbard, and will actually harm acorn squash.

In terms of storage conditions, the critical thresholds are 50 and 70. Never cooler than 50F or more humid than 70%. The ideal numbers are 60F and 60% humidity —easy to remember. Store pumpkins and squash away from apples, which produce ethylene gas that will hasten ripening, and shorten storage life. Check stored squash every few weeks, as one rotten one can spread decay to others.

Under good conditions acorn squash will store for 5-8 weeks. Pie pumpkins, as well as buttercup squash, often make it through the winter, and it’s not unheard of for a Hubbard or butternut to last into the following July. Because the record-breaking pumpkins of today have Hubbard genetics, I’d expect those leviathans might last a good while. But who’s going to build a storage room around a one-ton pumpkin?

Producing giant pumpkins is not for everyone, but hey—whatever floats your boat, right?

Paul Hetzler is a forester and a horticulture and natural resources educator with Cornell Cooperative Extension of St. Lawrence County.