We have some fairly unusual traditions in our family. One of those traditions, which others tend to find perplexing, is our habit of moving holidays around to days that are more convenient for us. I think it started a couple of years after we got married. We spent the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving helping a mom and her four children find safety in a shelter for battered women, several counties away. It was 2:00 in the morning by the time we got home. Bill and I looked at each other and said, in unison, “Thanksgiving on Friday!” and fell into bed.
There’s an old joke that starts out in some small-ish town in a farming part of the country and goes on to ask, “Do you know the only time the people around here lock their car doors?”
“At church on Sunday, during squash season! They’re afraid sombody will leave bags of zuchini in their cars!!!”
If you’re a gardener, or grew up in a family of gardeners, you probably know that both green zuchini and their yellow cousins, often called summer or crookneck squash, tend to be enthusiastic producers, to say the least!
My garden is a bit behind, as usual. We don’t have a homegrown hoard of squash taking over the front yard, yet. A friend of mine, however, does. And she gave me some!