Friday, July 30, 2021

Don't look now, but there's one creeping up behind you

I've lived in the midwest long enough to have learned one of the most important rules for surviving the hot midsummer months: Don't turn your back on the zucchini patch. Even if it hasn't rained all week and you're certain there's no way those zucchinis can be growing, and even if it's so hot and humid that the effort of walking a short distance up a small hill leaves you drenched, you have to check the zucchini patch every day or else you'll end up with squashes big enough to pummel an ox.

That's what I have this week. It's true that I've been distracted, keeping my nose in the books and my fingers on the keyboard, although not both at the same time. But still, I should have known better than to ignore the zucchini patch for a couple of very hot days. And it's not even a patch--I planted three yellow zucchini plants this spring but only one survived.

But what a prolific plant it is. If the Three Little Pigs lived in Ohio in midsummer, they could build a sturdy house from the produce of that one zucchini plant. Forget sandbags--my one zucchini plant could stop the flooding if the Hoover Dam sprung a leak. You say North Korea is suffering from a food shortage? They're welcome to my zucchinis--as long as they don't send back any leftovers.

July is the time when churchgoers all over Ohio know that they must lock their cars in the church parking lot lest they emerge from worship to find their cars stuffed to the gills with zucchinis provided by their generous neighbors. And if they're not pushing giant zucchinis on you when you least expect it, they're bombarding you with loaves of zucchini bread or pans of zucchini casserole.

At this moment I have a lemon zucchini bundt cake baking in the oven, and later I'll chop some zucchini to make a yummy summer casserole, and later still I'll take them both to a church potluck where the table will be covered with zucchini dishes of every size, shape, and flavor.

And when I get home again, I'll trudge up the hill and see how many new zucchinis are ready to pick, because at this time of year they just don't stop growing and if I turn my back for just one day, they'll grow big enough to dominate my every waking hour. Good thing zucchinis aren't sentient, because nothing could stop them from taking over the world.  

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