Read by Matilda Longbottom

OOnce upon a time in my little gardening world, there was a tale of woe. An epic struggle that left me feeling like the only person in the world who couldn’t grow zucchini. Yes, you heard right—zucchini, the supposed easy-to-grow vegetable that baffled my green thumbs year after year.

Year after year, I embarked on the zucchini-growing journey, only to be met with disappointment. My plants would wither away, flowers would drop without producing, or I’d end up with pitifully tiny zucchinis that barely qualified as vegetables. My fellow Master Gardener friends shook their heads in pity at my lack of zucchini prowess.

Determined to turn my zucchini luck around, I dove headfirst into a sea of gardening advice. I consulted every resource available, from books to friends, and even spilled my zucchini-growing struggles to a stranger in Walmart’s garden section. Shamelessly, I sought guidance from anyone who might hold the secret to bountiful zucchini harvests.

However, the more advice I received, the more I realized that growing zucchini seemed to be a mystery wrapped in contradictions. Plant heirloom seeds; no, go for hybrids. Buy plants for a healthy start; wait, planting seeds avoids greenhouse diseases. Start seeds in the garden for deeper roots; scratch that, begin indoors for an early harvest. The conflicting tips kept piling up, leaving my head spinning in a zucchini-induced daze.

Undeterred, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Armed with a trowel and a plethora of tips, I embarked on the ultimate zucchini-growing experiment. I planted organic seeds, hybrid seeds, and store-bought plants. I spaced them close together or far apart, added commercial fertilizer to some areas, and enriched others with compost.

Watering became an art form—some zucchinis received a deluge from above, while others sipped water sparingly from below. I mulched with straw, compost, or rotted leaves, forming a symphony of soil treatments. When bugs made their appearance, I waged a personal war, hand-picking some intruders, while others faced a barrage of toxic or organic treatments. Oh, and let’s not forget the control group, my laissez-faire zucchini patch left to its own devices.

In my quest for zucchini greatness, I became a garden devotee, tending to my verdant companions day and night. Exhausted but hopeful, I awaited the moment of truth.

And the results? Drumroll, please!

After the season concluded, a revelation struck me—zucchini craves attention. Not a specific seed, not a particular growing condition, just pure, unadulterated attention. Like people, the more zucchini receives, the healthier it grows and the better it produces.

All my zucchinis, regardless of the treatment, stood tall, thick, and healthy. The control group, left to fend for itself, joined the zucchini party with equal enthusiasm. After a frenzy of harvesting, my kitchen overflowed with zucchinis, and I generously shared my abundance with friends and family.

But as the zucchini bonanza continued, a twist of fate occurred. Friends avoided me, phones went unanswered, and even the local food bank politely declined my zucchini offering, overwhelmed by the surplus from other gardeners. Desperate to unload my harvest, I resorted to leaving baskets in my car with open windows, hoping for a stealthy zucchini thief—alas, no takers.

And so, my zucchini saga reached its peak. A bumper crop achieved, a triumph celebrated. In the words of a zucchini-weary gardener, “Glory Hallelujah! I’ll never be hungry (for zucchini) again!”

And thus, my zucchini misadventure turned into a tale of unexpected triumph, reminding us all that sometimes, a little attention is all it takes to turn a garden from barren to bountiful. ❖

About the Author: When Karla Jones Seidita was first married, she spent the spring and summer planting a perennial garden in her otherwise barren landscape. Her urban born and raised husband wanted to help and ended up pulling up all the perennials and burning them thinking he was clearing the garden of dead plants and brush. He has since learned the difference between annual and perennial and their marriage was able to survive the garden.