Every fall we have tons of squash. They come in many forms but through the years the favorite has been the Butternut with an Acorn close behind. The reason is that these two seem to last the longest. Here in Wisconsin, if stored upstairs and not in the damp basement, they will last until April.
In the basement they started to rot by Christmas due to the humidity. This only makes sense because the fungus only needs so much encouragement and a touch of moisture and off they go. Hell, even the concrete has mold on it. Give 'em a little damp and it is like Nascar.
While I love the two above squashes, and they make good pies, last year I brought a larger squash from our daughter's place in Colorado. It looked like a flat pumpkin but it was heavier (greater specific gravity), more dense and the meat was reddish as was the squash. Well, I don't know the name of the thing but it was really tasty, possessed lots of meat and made a great pie as well. To top it off it lasted until June---that would be June.
So I says to myself, "Man, you need to plant this thing and make a bit of a transition because this is the mother of all squash, like a mother Hubbard." Well, I put the seeds in the ground and yesterday when we got home from distant lands, there were six of these beauties scattered about the holdings and thy were all puffed up like a bunch of toads, gnarly and fat.
But here is the dilemma. One of them is sixty pounds! I had to have a kid pick the frigging thing and place it on the bench for observation. My Christ, the others are forty pounds. What does one do with a monster? I mean, the minute one butchers it, there has to be a plan. Squash soup, squash pie, mashed squash. No wonder they feed them to hogs. Maybe we can be hogs. Maybe a squash festival. It ain't easy being a farmer.
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