Background – Stuffed zucchini was one of my mother’s specialties and
one of my favorites! It was best if you
could get a hold of an enormous, freshly home-grown zucchini and cook it up
right away. My mother, who was much
beloved at her place of work, had a friend who would, every now and again,
provide her with just such a zucchini; this friend I speak of not only grew the
most enormous zucchinis I have ever seen to this very day, but also had an enormous
crush on my adorable mom. Worked for me!
My mother had been gone for five years that July, when I
decided that my heart was strong enough from the loss of her to attempt a home
grown zucchini of my own. I was hoping
to resurrect some of the fond, delicious memories from my childhood, while
creating a few new ones for my kids. The
problem was that my thumbs are as pink as pink can be, not so much as a tint of
green to either one. I tried growing my
zucchini in a standing planter, one similar to the Topsy Turvy Tomato Grower (I know, pathetic) and as you might guess
produced nothing larger than a gherkin. I
was disappointed, but not surprised and sadly gave up my quest to duplicate my
mother’s culinary masterpiece.
S.C.O.U.T. - During the time that I was fighting my gardening
ineptitude and trying to produce something green and edible, I was also
fighting another ongoing battle, my neighbors “garden”; which more resembled an
unruly jungle with no sense of boundaries, or property lines. On a regular basis I was forced to cut, rip
and even uproot entire plants in order to try and preserve our fenced
space. I was successful in this task
except for one stubborn vine; a vine that even when picked up and thrown as far
as I could hurl it, would magically appear back in my yard within days, snaking
its way over the fence and down into the middle of our lawn. At first I thought that this creep show vine
was mocking me and got a little freaked out when it once again defied my
attempts to relocate it to the other side of the fence and appeared in my yard.
I was freaked out until, standing in my kitchen safely behind
the closed door (I now wasn’t sure this thing was really just a plant), I saw a
large green gourd attached to the thickest part of the vine. It was an enormous zucchini; one that would
have gotten at least a nod of recognition from my mother’s old friend. My sweet neighbor, a very “Zen” man of Indian
descent, was more than happy to give me the vegetable as it had clearly stated
where it belonged. I smiled and thanked
him for his generosity, and then my mother for her gift, even as the chill
crept down my spine; uncanny, simply uncanny how I had indeed gotten my large,
home-grown zucchini.
My goofy dog Scout once again just smiles knowingly. I can tell he’s thinking of my mother. You see, she loved him too and therefore he
had left this plant alone each time it appeared on our side of the fence, even
as he tore through all the surrounding landscape in his game of “Destroy The Yard”;
again, simply uncanny.
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