by L. Shell Madden

Created on: May 28, 2008

The Zucchini Fairy
It's been an odd summer; spring came early, bright with promises of early planting and bountiful harvests.
I had intended to behave myself this year, nor buy too many tomato plants and curb my inclination to have one of everything when I went to the nurseries. I did fairly well, at first
As a reaction to last year's late frost and this year's early spring most of the nurseries were sorely unprepared and selections were less than encouraging. I picked up the tomatoes first, too many as usual and then I started filling in the vines I wanted lots of cow mummies (cukes for those of you not of the family) so I bought six, four "market more's and two "sweet slice", a couple of spaghetti squash, one pumpkin, one watermelon (though I have no idea why, in five years of trying I have yet to get a single watermelon), one summer squash two kinds of winter squash, a birdhouse gourd and one zucchini plant.

Now I know how prolific these things are, so I swear I only bought one, and I only planted one So how did I end up with two?
My best guess is that a stray zucchini fairy descended on my garden and changed something All I know is suddenly I was up to my backside in zucchini and its crook-necked cousins the summer squash.
At first I put it into my pasta sauce, then onto skewers with chicken or beef and other select veggies but they kept on coming and coming and coming each day got worse there were more of them each time I visited the garden, and they were bigger too I started bringing them (the little ones) in with the tomatoes, one or two perched on top of the lovely round red fruit but later I had to make three trips with two baskets each time Finally I tossed my hands in the air and started recruiting help I knew things had gotten completely out of hand when my husband, Bear, threatened to bring the wheelbarrow down
The mass of green and yellow piled higher and higher I sent them home with friends, I pleaded with everyone I know for recipes. I even sent them to work with the neighbour (she works with lots of women who cook, bake, etc and actually want zucchini).
Finally things had reached crisis level, I had to do something or risk being severely injured should they roll off the counter, in their multitude, and crush me beneath their weight.
Saturday dawned bright and Bear headed out to work with a distracted kiss to my forehead, and a mumbled, "Have a good, day." The truck hadn't even cleared the laneway when I opened the cupboard doors and checked

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• Next Page >>