I got a late start on planting, but spotted established plants at Home Depot the 2nd week in June. I selected 3 healthy specimens, each in 4 inch pots, that I figured would be about the same size of a seed by now that I planned on burying into the mounds of dirt three weeks prior. My procrastination hadn't mattered, given my find at the hardware store, and I was on my way to a more leisurely summer gardening experience.

The first pot actually held 2 mature seedlings, and I pressed the damp clump deep down into the dirt far enough so they could still stand straight. The little stems were tender, and needed support once they were free from the plastic container. In they went, with their little identification tag. "Giant Pumpkin" it read. Not too specific, but to the point. Ditto for the 2nd pot. As my husband handed me the 3rd and final pot, he said "I thought you weren't planting zucchini this year."

"I'm not ..."

"Well darlin', looks like the zucchini found you!"

I really thought he was kidding with me, but sure as the world, my third seedling was in fact a zucchini. The last hill of dirt, as luck would have it was in a prime spot. Lots of space in the middle of the garden where it was sure to hog water and sunlight like a big bully. When I announced to the universe that I didn't want more zucchini, all that was heard was "more zucchini." Fatigue was already setting in. My green thumb felt like a curse.

During the next few weeks, I maintained close watch over those three hills, and cheered as the pumpkins got bigger and bigger. Zucchini not far behind. I devised a plan to spike the Z's morning beverage with a tiny bit of weed-b-gone. It would just slowly turn yellow, then brittle giving me a good reason to yank it out. But with further consideration, I abandoned the idea. The risk was too great, as the percolating poison could easily leach it's way through the dirt and straight into the roots of my precious perfect pumpkins. Besides, the zucchini police might come sniffing around and would surely know it was me who hatched such a heinous plot, admitting as evidence previously authored anti zucchini manifestos, then haul me off cuffed with the very vine of the vegetable I was trying to eradicate. They wouldn't buy my story that it was an intruder that didn't belong alongside my perky pumpkins, or that it was a noxious choker trying to take over. I knew I couldn't carry the guilt, and would be found out, so I decided to do the right thing. I would simply serve my sentence of slicing and dicing at home instead of the slammer. I could almost see myself sporting an ankle monitor fashioned from the whiskery vine dotted with perfect slices of zucchini coins. The authorities would be on standby if I attempted a ring and run with unwanted inedible green gourds on unsuspecting neighbors.

I'm practicing my new mantra as I write. "more pumpkins, more pumpkins, more pumpkins!!"

Zucchini bread anyone?