Every year there are volunteers in the beloved garden and once in a while one of them is worth keeping. I spot the shoots coming up and out of the kindness of my heart I say, "Go for it, but you better make something worth eating or say, a flower worth admiring".
Like last year, there was a rather large amount of youthful squash seedlings spattered about the garden. What I started doing is thinning, so they were not up tight against each other or other known goodies. I was fairly ruthless because last year the bulk of them turned out to be space gourds, those are the odd ones that look like space saucers. They are worthless in my estimation except to some homemaker who finds them cute in a cornucopian arrangement. I think they suck and are best used to throw at stray dogs, drunks, punk rockers or any combination of the aforementioned.
The biggest problem with squash/pumpkin/gourd plants is that they take up large portions of real estate. The leaves are the size of basketballs and the tentacles choke even rabbits (I like that) but also climb all over everything. The damn things can grow a foot a day. To top it off, they add confusion to the display, the ambiance and general organization of our efforts.So this year I laid down an ultimatum. Either you come up with a recognizable, useful fruit or you are out of here, compost, toilet paper, rotting mulch, the dirt nap.
So we went away for 4 days to be lighthouse keepers and on our return, two plants were starting to show cosmic fruit (not much of it) and each vine had extended out over ten feet in five directions. I mean, Jesus, like get a life. You were not put on this earth to engulf a man's garden.
With no hesitation, remorse, or guilt I murdered the damn things, dragged them out on the asphalt and stomped on them shouting, "Don't you and your people ever do that again." The garden is now a better place. The intruders from outer space are gone. No more aliens.
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