This time last year, 2006, I was excited to discover a renegade pumpkin plant growing in our front yard. I figured it had sprouted from an errant seed left in the area by our October, 2005, Halloween pumpkin-carving endeavor close by.

I tracked the progress of that surprise pumpkin plant last fall, fondly named Punky, and took bets on whether Punky had sprung to life in time to bear even tiny fruit. I was betting on Punky.

I lost my bets, and had to pay up waged pumpkin pies to those who had followed Punky's progress and bet against her. You know who you are.

This fall, nature has once again blessed us with a vegetable plant mystery. My husband, Kevin, came in from mowing the lawn earlier this month and told me he had discovered a tiny, hardy-looking tomato plant sprouted in our front yard and already bearing tiny yellow blooms, to boot.

If we composted, which is when non-meat food scraps are tossed into a decaying outdoor pile to create exceedingly healthy soil, we would not wonder so much how seeds of vegetable plants are finding their way into and putting roots down in our front yard. But, we don't compost.

Since this tiny tomato plant is located only a foot or so from our ornamental birdbath, my guess is its seed of origin ended up there via a bird's digestive system. Perhaps a feathered friend pecked the fruit of a friendly farmer in the area and carried its seeds to our house, exactly the way nature designed propagation of plant species.

Thanks, little birdie!

I will not be taking bets on Tonta the Tomato Plant's ability to produce fruit before the first freeze kills her. Too late for that. I am pleased to announce Tonta is already a mother--to triplets! Three marble-sized orb optimists hang from Tonta's branches.

No fruit-producing wagers this fall, I suppose. However, I will track Tonta's progress, the progress of her tiny offspring, as well as more offspring that might appear where her bright blossoms once showed off in the sun.

As a side note, I have seen animal droppings this month around our house filled with plum seeds. Wild plums grow quite abundantly in our neighborhood, though we have no plum trees in our yard.

I am happy to find nature has carried the seeds of plums into our yard via another animal's digestive tract, but I am a bit unnerved by locals advising me the only animals that eat and poop plum seeds are bears.

Yikes, Yogi.