The Zucchini That Wouldn't Die
I didn't plant anything but some basil and thyme. And I think there were a couple of afternoons where I got stoned and threw sunflower seeds all over the back patch of garden. I do remember stomping/sowing back there occassionally. But the zucchini I had nothing to do with. They got the idea from the, get this, tomatoes, beans, oregano, shiso and fennel that reincarnated in the stomping pile in the back yard.
I aborted so many babies. The tomatoes were especially hard, but I remember what happened last year. Our upstairs neighbors moved out because I gave them so many tomatoes. They probably didn't like them. They probably thought I was mean spirited in my tomato giving because I resented the blue tarp dangling from the tree protecting his mini yuppie car from sap. Futile and enraging. But the tomatoes and blue tarp have nothing to do with this really.
When I got back from Halifax, with the help of my intrepid horticultural hubby, we attacked the zucchini. After a brilliant summer of neglect and absence there were almost dozens of zucchini and the vines were both orgiastic and hostile in their mutual invasions. We started clipping leaves and "rewiring." B says you can hack away 90% of the leaves and the plant will survive.
Little did he know that even the hackings would survive. Some of the vines were tossed onto the big pile of crap. Apparently that pile of crap is prime digs because I watched those little zucchini flowers open and close every day for weeks. They just didn't realize they were dead, so they were still trying to have sex with other bugs and flowers.
But it was cold this weekend. The leaves turned black and shrivelled. I'm so relieved I don't have to eat more zucchini. Go, snow globe, go!
I aborted so many babies. The tomatoes were especially hard, but I remember what happened last year. Our upstairs neighbors moved out because I gave them so many tomatoes. They probably didn't like them. They probably thought I was mean spirited in my tomato giving because I resented the blue tarp dangling from the tree protecting his mini yuppie car from sap. Futile and enraging. But the tomatoes and blue tarp have nothing to do with this really.
When I got back from Halifax, with the help of my intrepid horticultural hubby, we attacked the zucchini. After a brilliant summer of neglect and absence there were almost dozens of zucchini and the vines were both orgiastic and hostile in their mutual invasions. We started clipping leaves and "rewiring." B says you can hack away 90% of the leaves and the plant will survive.
Little did he know that even the hackings would survive. Some of the vines were tossed onto the big pile of crap. Apparently that pile of crap is prime digs because I watched those little zucchini flowers open and close every day for weeks. They just didn't realize they were dead, so they were still trying to have sex with other bugs and flowers.
But it was cold this weekend. The leaves turned black and shrivelled. I'm so relieved I don't have to eat more zucchini. Go, snow globe, go!