I’m not sure when it first showed up, but it certainly has made itself at home in my wife’s garden.
Sort of like how Godzilla made himself at home in Tokyo.
It’s a pumpkin vine and it slithers through my wife’s flowers and plants like a giant boa constrictor looking for lunch. I swear it grows about two feet a day. It’s already about 25 feet long. At some point, I’m afraid it’s going to start circling our house, blocking our doors, covering our windows and holding us hostage.
If it headed in a vertical direction rather than across the ground, I could easily do a Jack in the Beanstalk impersonation, at least able to climb up to the peak of our roof.
I could have named it The Green Monster, The Jolly Green Giant or The Green (and Mean) Grinch in the Garden. Instead, I just call it Mr. Green. My wife’s names for it are even more colorful — and unprintable.
We figure it came about when the squirrels began eating our Halloween pumpkin after it rotted and some of the seeds found their way into fertile ground. We got the “trick” while the squirrels got their “treat.”
Fat little rodents.
I wonder if Mr. Green could put them in a death grip — at least long enough until they decided our property no longer needed to be their playground.
I sort of like Mr. Green and have pleaded with my wife to let it run its course — whether that be measured in feet, yards or miles. So far, she has held back on the garden shears but she keeps a close eye on the welfare of her roses, lilies and nasturtiums.
She may not admit it but like me, she has become fascinated by its presence. And it really is kind of cool. Along with its giant, heart-shaped leaves and tendrils reaching out for more space, yellow flowers are now blooming on it
I guess we can assume that little pumpkins will start appearing in a few months. That is OK with me, as long as the vine doesn’t suddenly sprout pods as well.
While studying Mr. Green, I can’t help but think about the movie “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” in which mysterious vine-like plants start growing giant pods and these pods soon form into an identical copy of a person who happens to be nearby. Bad things then begin to happen. Very bad things.
Yes, my imagination sometimes runs amok — the same thing that Mr. Green is doing through the garden.
Just the other night I woke up in a sweat and thought something — maybe one of Mr. Green’s tendrils — had grabbed my foot. Instead, it was one of my wife’s vicious toenails violating my space in our king-size bed.
I will keep you posted on its growth — the vine, not the toenail. Then again, if you live on my side of town, Mr. Green may soon be slithering up your sidewalk anyway.
Contact Bill at [email protected]