Squash Baby Stolen!

Squash Baby’s empty cage

This morning we woke to find that Squash Baby had been taken during the night.

Erik just returned from searching the neighborhood, hoping to find traces, remanants or, heaven help us, the perp him or herself.  Needless to say, he is cursing. He’d planned on harvesting Squash Baby today, so it is particularly heartbreaking. It had stopped adding inches (I believe it held at 36″), and had started taking on golden tones.

I only hope that the people who took it plan on eating it. If it’s feeding a family (which it could do for several days), that’s fine. If some kids took it and smashed in an alley…well, that’s best not pondered. Forensic examination of the stem stump, however, reveals that the perp did not use a knife, but rather pried the squash* free. This speaks ominously to an impulse theft.

Once I saw a Buddhist monk on TV. He held up a pretty glass and said, “This glass is already broken.”  My attitude toward Squash Baby has always been, “This squash is already stolen.” But poor Erik was much attached to the squash, and his head was filled with images of squash galettes and squash gnocchi and squash soup.  He wanted to have a squash butchering party.  Now he’s hunched over his breakfast cereal, disconsolate, and muttering about never planting anything in the parkway again.

He harvested Squash Sibling this morning, though it could have grown some more, I believe.  We’re hoping it’s ripe enough for good eating. It’s no inconsiderable squash, despite being the runt of the litter. It measures 22 inches.

Next year we will plant Lunga di Napoli again, far from the street.

* N.B. Squash Baby was technically a pumpkin, as noted in a previous post.

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  1. I can’t believe it! I’ve been checking in on its progress for so long and now this. ARGH. That is so disappointing! That is great advice–I’m going to try and adopt the buddhist orientation to this. om. om.

  2. Noooo! Bummer, I’ve been reading this with an interested eye to see if you could make it through to harvest without it being stolen. I live in a city myself, if it isn’t tied down it generally gets taken. Sometimes even if it IS tied down. ah well, c’est la guerre. I look forward to next year to see how it does when it’s hidden from the street.

  3. I feel your pain. Tends to make one think the worst about humanity. Resist that urge, Young Skywalker. There have been many lessons learned . . . and more to come. Plant on, my friend.

  4. So sorry for your loss. I’ve been eagerly waiting for the post with a squash lasagna recipe or whatever fabulous kitchen creation you would have made with Squash Baby. Bummer.

  5. My condolences to Erik but I’m with you, growing something that tempting in full view and easy reach of the general public is just asking for trouble. I think the amazing thing is that it wasn’t stolen sooner!

    Maybe next year you can plant something in the parkway you want to share.

  6. The incentive in nurturing is the joy that comes from the process, the nurturing itself, regardless of the end.

    We had theft of crops recently in our community garden here in SW Seattle. So we’re dealing with some of the same emotions as well. We’re responding by having a garden party. Like Ross says above, plant on!

  7. Oh no! I am so sorry. About a month ago someone stole ALL the pears off our pear tree! Who does that? The worst part is you know it was one of your neighbors…I just don’t like that feeling.

  8. Oh no! I do hope it went to feed people who were hungry, although it seems so senseless to just be taken — when our container garden supplemented our family’s diet, I had a note posted by our front door to just ask if the reader wanted some of what we grew. (Our plants were on a second-floor balcony with no exterior access. We always had more fresh herbs and Mexican limes than we needed.)

  9. Noooooooooooo!!!
    I was following the squash saga since the beginning. Lol seemed the plot of a Quentin Tarantino’s Movie….. 🙂
    Anyway hugs from Italy!
    Erik Next year u’ll need lasers and and mines

  10. I really don’t understand people’s greed, particularly to the pear post above. If a plant has only two squash babies on it, and is clearly being tended to (um, and hoarded over), why be such a jerk? : Sorry to hear..

  11. Nooo, that sucks! I have been so curious about Squash Baby! Next time, perhaps a small tracking device inserted into it when it’s small? ;o)

  12. I am so sorry for you!!! Perhaps next year, it would be better to plant things that only produce one or two coveted items in the back and in the front put things like basil and other leafy greens that you are constantly clipping from and wouldn’t mind if others did the same. My heart goes out to you!

  13. Oh nooooo! The heartbreak!

    One year a groundhog ate every single peach off our tree the day my husband told me to pick them. It was a sad sad day.

  14. Imagine the seeds from Squash Baby traveling miles before sprouting in another parkway…destiny fulfilled.

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