The Minnesota Farm Woman

My sister recently asked the question on social media just what we have done to prepare for the coming Zombie Apocalypse. She plans on leaving her toilet seat up so her beloved empty nest dog has water to drink every day. One friend claimed that she actually  was a zombie and wasn’t quite prepared to apocalypse anyone just yet. Another friend mentioned the importance of wearing clean underwear. My cousins are like me and think about food. One is stocking up on canned goods and the other decided she would go with a smile on her face and eat ice cream every day.  My food thoughts turn to my garden. Everyone knows that  when harvest time arrives there is usually enough zucchini to feed an entire nation, even a nation that is being overtaken by zombies. This year, my friends, I am a failure. I have lovely tomato and pepper plants covered with blooms and it  looks like there will be enough cabbage for a batch of sauerkraut, but my zucchini crop is a bust.  I planted several seeds, which usually burst exuberantly through the soil without any work at all, but this year, none of them came up. I opened a new package of seeds and soaked them for a couple of hours before planting them, but that didn’t work, either. In desperation, I’ve been to two different nurseries looking for zucchini plants, only to find out the season for buying plants is over.  I am almost afraid to mention the zucchini situation out loud, though. You know how it is…mention just once that you need zucchini, and well-meaning gardeners from all over the county will drop off zeppelin-sized squash on your front porch.  If the Zombie Apocalypse arrives and you see a middle-aged Farm Woman chasing them down the road while wielding a zucchini the size of a baseball bat , just step out of the way. I’m rough and I’m tough, but even more important, I’m wearing clean underwear.