Ont. farms looking for leftover pumpkins

Nov 03, 2022

Farmers with livestock will feed the pumpkins to their animals

By Diego Flammini
Staff Writer
Farms.com

Ontario farms are asking people to donate leftover Halloween pumpkins.

John and Linda Dunk, who raise poultry, eggs, pork and beef at JL Farms in Tottenham, Ont., will be setting up a trailer at the end of their Concession Road #7 driveway this weekend for people to drop off the pumpkins.

In Kitchener, Ont., for example, Steckle Heritage Farm is accepting pumpkins with no paint, wax or marker on them until Nov. 4.

The heritage farm’s goal is to collect 400 pumpkins, which can help feed the animals until Christmas.

““The horses, the cows, the donkey, the sheep and even Renee our lama – they all love them,” Christopher Jupp, executive director of Steckle Heritage Farm, told CTV News. “And it’s great nutrients for them and it helps supplement their diet. So, we’re very thankful to the community for coming along and donating their pumpkins for us.”

And in Tottenham, Ont., John and Linda Dunk, who raise poultry, eggs, pork and beef at JL Farms will be setting up a trailer at the end of their Concession Road #7 driveway this weekend for people to drop off the pumpkins.

Indeed, pumpkins do provide valuable nutrients for livestock.

The popular Halloween decorations can be a good supplemental protein, the University of Nebraska says.

“The crude protein content tends to be between 14-17% on a dry matter basis and the in vitro digestibility (similar to total digestible nutrients or TDN) is 60-70%,” wrote Karla Jenkins, a cow/calf specialist with the university. “Pumpkins can make a good supplemental feed for dry pregnant cows in the fall or can be included as a component of a growing ration for calves.”

Video: Why Your Food Future Could be Trapped in a Seed Morgue

In a world of PowerPoint overload, Rex Bernardo stands out. No bullet points. No charts. No jargon. Just stories and photographs. At this year’s National Association for Plant Breeding conference on the Big Island of Hawaii, he stood before a room of peers — all experts in the science of seeds — and did something radical: he showed them images. He told them stories. And he asked them to remember not what they saw, but how they felt.

Bernardo, recipient of the 2025 Lifetime Achievement Award, has spent his career searching for the genetic treasures tucked inside what plant breeders call exotic germplasm — ancient, often wild genetic lines that hold secrets to resilience, taste, and traits we've forgotten to value.

But Bernardo didn’t always think this way.

“I worked in private industry for nearly a decade,” he recalls. “I remember one breeder saying, ‘We’re making new hybrids, but they’re basically the same genetics.’ That stuck with me. Where is the new diversity going to come from?”

For Bernardo, part of the answer lies in the world’s gene banks — vast vaults of seed samples collected from every corner of the globe. Yet, he says, many of these vaults have quietly become “seed morgues.” “Something goes in, but it never comes out,” he explains. “We need to start treating these collections like living investments, not museums of dead potential.”

That potential — and the barriers to unlocking it — are deeply personal for Bernardo. He’s wrestled with international policies that prevent access to valuable lines (like North Korean corn) and with the slow, painstaking science of transferring useful traits from wild relatives into elite lines that farmers can actually grow. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But he’s convinced that success starts not in the lab, but in the way we communicate.

“The fact sheet model isn’t cutting it anymore,” he says. “We hand out a paper about a new variety and think that’s enough. But stories? Plants you can see and touch? That’s what stays with people.”

Bernardo practices what he preaches. At the University of Minnesota, he helped launch a student-led breeding program that’s working to adapt leafy African vegetables for the Twin Cities’ African diaspora. The goal? Culturally relevant crops that mature in Minnesota’s shorter growing season — and can be regrown year after year.

“That’s real impact,” he says. “Helping people grow food that’s meaningful to them, not just what's commercially viable.”

He’s also brewed plant breeding into something more relatable — literally. Coffee and beer have become unexpected tools in his mission to make science accessible. His undergraduate course on coffee, for instance, connects the dots between genetics, geography, and culture. “Everyone drinks coffee,” he says. “It’s a conversation starter. It’s a gateway into plant science.”