Gourd-geous Gourds

 You may remember from years past how I save seeds from my gourds, zinnias, larkspur, hollyhocks, etc. from year to year, one post is here. In the last few years, I simply crushed the dried gourds out in the garden and let them come up willy-nilly as they may the next year, instead of saving them in a bag to plant in the spring.

However, last summer was a bit different. Last summer my hubby underwent treatment for stage four throat cancer. He is now cancer-free, praise God! But last summer he was so sick and weak that he could hardly do anything other than sleep. One of his favorite things to do is run the tractor. Hauling up logs for firewood, brush hogging, moving dirt- he loves his tractor. But that was all too much for him. Everything except plowing the 40 by 50 plot that is the garden. 

Everything was out of kilter last year, and so all I got planted was a row of 20 tomatoes and a row of green beans. I knew my gourds and zinnias would come up from spent seed that had fallen to the ground the summer before, without my having to plant. But every time that they tried to, my hubby was out there plowing. I don't think any patch of dirt has ever been worked so much. That's not good for the soil, but how do you say that to someone who just really needs to drive his tractor? You don't.  

And so all the little gourd seeds that tried to come up were killed. And that meant no plants to make new seeds. I had been growing gourds from the same seeds I had bought more than ten years before, and then they were all gone.

It made me a bit sad, but this spring I just went out and bought two packs of mixed gourds, determined to start again. I planted them and let them do their thing. They eat things...tomato cages, cucumber trellises, whole acres if you let them. And I would. Because, when they fruit it is so secretive, often beneath a massive leaf, or curled in the arch of a vine. They are like treasures waiting to be found. Then they begin to swell and you see color shining through- deep green, straw yellow, pumpkin orange. And finally the vines begin to get old and die back, exposing thrilling beauties that had been hidden away.

Speaking of pumpkins, I didn't plant any this year. And yet some of my gourds grew to look just like them. It is so much fun seeking them out, like looking for Easter eggs. And this year there were so many new varieties and colors.

I would lift a spread of leaves, squeak with excitement, and leap on the beautiful specimen. It made me think of the videos you see of a fox standing in the snow, listening. Suddenly, it hears the sound of a mouse down below. It jumps straight into the air and buries headfirst into the snow, hopefully catching the mouse. I am much like that with gourds, only less agile. 

I have only harvested half of my babies, the others are being left alone to see if they will change shape or colors in their continued growing. Sometimes gourds on the exact same mother vine can all look different. 

Forrest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get." I say that fall is like a wheelbarrow of gourds, beautiful and exciting in all its different shapes and colors. 

But all the excitement and thrill of the hunt can really tire a gal out. And that's when a gourd is the perfect place to rest your pretty head for a wee autumn nap...