I ate so much zucchini as a child that I still haven't recovered. I only like it now if it's tiny and, oh so tender, sauteed with a little dill and butter. Or in bread. Preferably with chocolate.
I grew up in a tiny town - year round population 400- In the summer that number swelled to nearly 3000. Despite the masses, the town remained a trusted and safe haven. We didn't even have a lock on our house until 1991.
One late summer day my mother arrived at the post office like she did every day. She got out of her car and locked the door and went in to get the mail. When she returned a summer resident ran up to her - clearly shaken.
Susan. Please tell me! Is there something I should know? Is it no longer safe here? Have there been burglaries? Why did you lock your car? I've never seen anyone lock their car here!
My mother calmly reassured her, No, no Louise, it's still as safe here as it ever was. It's just if we don't lock the car at this time of year, it's full of zucchini when we get back.
Our neighbor gave us a monster from his garden yesterday. Looks like I'm making bread this week.