By James Brodell

Success in gardening can mean a drastic loss of friends and even casual acquaintances.

A gigantic harvest of cucumbers at first is most welcomed. Then the reality sinks in: Won’t these vines ever stop producing?

The refrigerator is full. Even the beer fridge in the garage is now stuffed with the green vegetables from hell. And they keep coming.

Initially, as the summer began, family, neighbors and friends welcomed a small bag of your harvest. Now the neighbors hide when they see you coming. Family members skip the Sunday dinner because they say they have covid, plague or even death rattle.

You realize you can pass off a few of the cukes to the mailman. Then you wonder why the mail suddenly stopped being delivered.

You begin praying for the arrival of some Mormon elders or perhaps the nice ladies from the Seventh-Day Adventist. But they never come. Perhaps they heard.

The $50 worth of new canning jars are exhausted and the vines are snaking their way out of the backyard to the front lawn continuing to display the tiny yellow blossoms.

You’ve already tried cucumber soup, cuke puree, baked cucurbits, and blooming cucumbers. Too bad your mother told you it was a sin to waste food.

And then there is another drenching downpour and the cucumber vines seem to rear up and spring out in all directions.

You consider wearing loose-fitting clothes and a long trench coat, stuff them with excess harvest and sneak them back to the vegetable counter of the local supermarket. Sort of reverse shoplifting.

Can you make cucumber wine, you ask yourself. How come the rabbits don’t raid the plot, you wonder. Would crows chow down if they could find the cukes under the leaves, you ponder.

You try freezing slices. When that fails, you grind up a few and make green ice cubes. Too bad the bounty is not from your pathetic corn and tomato patches.

You consider chopping the vines to stop the flood. You then realize you cannot betray the plants that have served you so well, too well.

You remember the tale of the sorcerer’s apprentice who could start magic but not end it.

You also realize you will do the same thing next year.

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James Brodell, A.M. Costa Rica editor emeritus, is a retired professor of journalism and a New York Metro area newspaper editor. He has studied U.S. open records and open meeting laws extensively. Brodell can be reached at JBrodell@jamesbrodell.com or Jay@amcostarica.com.

-Copyright James J. Brodell 2024 -