Hot and Dirty Zucchini Love

Well, if that post title doesn't catch your eye, I don't know what will.

This year's garden is planted. I learned a tremendous amount last year, during my maiden gardening voyage that can sort of be boiled down to this: I didn't know dirt about gardening. I thought I did. But, it turns out, I planted the plants too late, didn't orient my rows the right way and didn't fertilize often enough. I also didn't test my soil first and didn't plant enough beans (apparently the nitrogen they give off makes some other plants loooove them).

I mean, really? People planted things for thousands of years before Miracle Grow was even invented and they managed to eat just fine. So, why is this so difficult?

Don't get me wrong. We were swimming in okra and tomatoes last summer. This past winter we ate kale and collards for months. But, for the space I have, I really had higher expectations.
For instance, I remember my grandfather joking during the summer that if we got bored, we could go out and watch the zucchini grow. That's just how fast that stuff is supposed to go. You can actually watch it. So, why did my little garden and I fail to produce a single, solitary squash or zuccinini last summer?!

I have gone to the experts. First, the guy down the street who is a retired farmer and has a completely ADD inducing garden set up in paint buckets all over his yard. It is hidden from the street, thank God. Impressive "garden," but not something you'd want the next potential new neighbors to see before their real estate closing. He is an expert, though, and had some insight. I planted too late and it was too hot for pollination by the time my plants were big enough. Seems a little unfair since I expected some perks to living in one of the most hot and humid places on God's green creation. You should at least be able to grow some food even if it feels like you're living in a sauna. Notsomuch, apparently. At least not after July.

So, this year, I planted earlier. Much earlier. I'm nothing if not teachable. However, because I am a nerd and slightly obsessive about the garden, I felt the need to protect myself further against the disappointment that comes from being the only person I've ever heard of who couldn't grow a dang zucchini. I went to the internet.

What I discovered has disturbed me. It turns out that it is very, very possible that I will have to learn zucchini in-vitro fertilization in order to be successful. That's right, my friends. Zucchini sex. Due to the lack of bees in my garden (and elsewhere, it seems), I might actually have to sentence myself to eternal dork-dome and get out there and help my zucchini get it on.

There are lots of websites that explain how this is done, if you have a need-to-know. Basically, you get your basic paintset paintbrush (think of it as the turkey baster), find a good, open "male" flower, swipe-swipe with your brush, find a compatible looking female flower with a baby squash on the end of it (the websites didn't say "compatible," but I'm guessing if you're going to force procreation here it would pay off to be discriminating), wait until it is open and "ready" and then swipe the precious pollen onto it's little female parts.

You. Must. Be. Kidding.

The websites say that if no pollination takes place, a fruit will develop, but with no seeds inside it, the plant will let the fruit rot before it reaches maturity. Who knew?

I can only assume with the plethora of information out there on this topic, that there must be gardeners the world over heading out to their little plots right now, paintbrushes in hand, labeled flower diagrams in their back pockets. I'm giving my plants until June 1 to figure it out and/or for some bees to show up around here to get the job done the normal way. After that, I'm taking matters (and pollen) into my own hands (and onto my own paintbrush).

If some dirty knees and a few soiled paintbrushes are what it takes to get my gardening pride back, well then, it's a small price to pay.