After a summer of grilled zucchini and roast zucchini, zucchini chips, zucchini linguine, zucchini everything and five pounds more in the freezer, we were desperate for a zucchini rendered inedible. Like a zucchini boat. Multiple zucchini boats. A zucchini regatta.
We rallied the siblings, provided the squash, and spent our Sunday afternoon carving around the kitchen table before setting off for the starting line. Us girls* got to work fashioning a launch reminiscent of the Jaredites; John with trademark precision carved an indigenous canoe. Daniel’s zucchini snapped in half during the delicate work of hull-hollowing and so was resurrected in hobbit-barrel style, while Tommy took to sculpturing his into something like a sea creature from the remains. In the end our five races proved no consistent victor (insert boys’ outrage here), but hours well spent; a tiny tribute to our garden harvest as the seasons turn.
*Naomi and I combined forces and may have gotten a little carried away with the X-acto knife? Because carving garden vegetables obviously demands extensive research into Mayan symbology? Because directly translated our pictographs would combine to mean bird over running waters? Because Xoco means littlest sister and mine is in nine days leaving for the jungles of the Yucatán? #idek #donttalktome #imnotcrying