Hybrid surprises

No butternut squash this year, and that's my favorite squash. I was grieving until it dawned on me that it was actually possible to buy buttnernut squash at the grocery store or, even better, at the farmer's market. I never think of it as something to buy, just as something to grow.

The reason there's no butternut this year is that I'd forgotten about squash's proclivity to hybridize. We grew four varieties last year: butternut, spaghetti, yellow and zucchini. This spring, I threw the seeds of the last remaining butternut and spaghetti (which were no longer edible) in two different patches of the garden, and expected to get butternut and spaghetti plants. I've usually had pretty good luck throwing old butternuts into the compost heap and getting volunteer butternut plants.

Not this year. Instead, we have two patches of plants, each of which is a different hybrid of winter and summer squashes. I think we'll find at the end of the season that some of them are spaghetti squashes, and some are pretty obviously summer squashs, but I'm not seeing anything with the distinctive shape of a butternut.

Fortunately, we planted some of the yellow squash from commercial seeds, and they're growing true. We also have one zucchini plant, again from commercial seeds. We grew just one zuke intentionally this year; I'm finally -- after 50 years! -- learning my lesson about zucchini, since all I want is enough to make a single annual batch of zucchini bread or muffins.

Wild cucumber

The mystery volunteer from earlier in the season has been identified (again, but for sure this time).

It's a wild cucumber.

Check the link for better pictures than I could take.

We noticed the fruits today while doing some weeding. We're moving the bed where garlic grows wild into an unused corner of the garden, where weeds and grapevines and these wild cucumbers had taken over.

Mystery volunteer

We've got two volunteer plants that initially I thought were butternut squash. Their true leaves were too small, though, so I had to think about what else could have been tossed into the garden to decompose. Best guesses are cucumbers or beans.

We'll find out for sure when they start producing whatever it is they're going to produce. So far, anything that looked like it might be a flower has turned into another viney branch. Meanwhile, we keep wrapping them around tomato cages to keep them from overwhelming either the path or the onion plants, where they're growing and are too large to transplant.

Also, we bought a packet of green beans to replace the seeds that I failed to water. It was $1.22, bringing the total to $169.16.

Volunteers

Since we're aiming for financial recovery in the garden, I just love volunteers -- the plants that grow from compost or simple self-seeding. We've got two plants that are probably in the squash/melon family that sprouted about a month ago and are growing like Jack's beanstalk. We also have a couple that I'm pretty sure are butternut squash seedlings, since they sprouted in the area where we composted last fall. Whatever they are, we have plenty of room, and it's like getting free (and often care-free) plants.

We also have another kind of volunteer -- Paul -- who tilled the two extra-weedy beds that we'd almost given up on. Okay, so he was volunteered by someone else, but he was great about it and generous with his time and energy and tiller.

Despite all the planning and the investing and the science, really, it's the volunteers that make a difference in the recovery garden.

Preparation

It's peak preparation time for the garden. Lots of digging and clean-up work without much immediate reward other than the satisfaction of a job well done.

The garden had been somewhat neglected for a few years, so brambles and wild grapes and weedy trees have formed a hedge all around it. I like the privacy that it offers for the urban garden, but the wild things have gotten out of hand and are blocking the sun, so we've been cutting them back and piling up the debris in massive heaps all around the yard. The paths need redefining, and the beds need turning, and the compost needs spreading.

Bit by bit, the prep work is all getting done, though, and it's starting to look like a real garden. Even better, it's starting to produce food. Not really quantifiable amounts, but asparagus has been eaten, the branches of sage have been collected before they could flower, and chives have been added to dill bread.

The onion seedlings have settled in nicely and resumed growing as if they'd never been transplanted, the sugarsnap peas are sending out runners to grab onto the fence, and the dill and swiss chard have sprouted. We have some volunteers that I thought were butternut squash, but now that the true leaves have come in, I'm not sure what they are. And we have some other volunteers that I'm pretty sure really are butternut squash.