Tuesday, September 23, 2008


We have a garden.

I suppose I should clarify that. My beloved spouse has a garden. He rototills, plants, weeds, and tends to a variety of vegetables. I'm tasked with preparing what he produces. For years, we(he) have planted zucchini, without success. They grow, we get a few, the vines get infected with something...and die. Every September we hear zucchini jokes--people leave them on doorsteps and run away--almost like the fruitcake that gets passed around at Christmas--and we never quite understood the problem.

Well, this year--while the rest of the country is suffering with droughts--or hurricanes--or other natural disasters--the weather pattern here in New England has produced zucchini. Baseball-bat-sized-enormous-zucchini. ALOT of them. And they're still growing.

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