Today around lunchtime I went to cook some squash, and the one I had my eye on (a bright orange sunshine squash) was rotting. No big deal. I have plenty of others, I thought. I brought it outside to compost it, but decided I was too tired from my earlier bike ride to trek up the hill to the compost pile. Instead, I thought I’d drop it into the flower bed (so named for its lack of flowers) and see if we might end up with a squash plant next year. Because I really need extra squash.
Anyway, I threw it down hard with the hopes of smashing it open to release the seeds. Except the squash didn’t break and instead started rolling down the hill. Down, down, down the steep hill in front of my house, bumping off of tree trunks, roots, and rocks, pinball-style, and taking a flying leap off the rock wall into the street. It still didn’t break and, instead, kept rolling across the road and down the perpendicular side street with an even steeper incline. From my bird’s-eye view, I could see it picking up a frightening amount of speed, catching air every so often, painting its own colorful stripe down the middle of the road. It looked completely ridiculous. It didn’t stop for 200 yards, when it got caught in a storm drain.
I couldn’t stop giggling the whole way down the hill to retrieve it. Didn’t anyone notice this? The cars going by? The guy watering his lawn not 10 feet away? I asked him on my way down.
Me: Did you see a pumpkin roll by?
Him: (no answer)
Me: It was bright orange? It rolled right by here?
Him: (no answer)
(We have an equal proportion of nice neighbors to weird neighbors. It’s hard to tell who’s who sometimes.)
I continued on my way to retrieve the squash. The rotted section on the bottom had broken open a little, but it was still pretty much intact. On the walk back up again, I held up the squash:
Me: You seriously didn’t see this thing roll down the hill?
Him: (turns his back to me)
I tell you, you can get away with anything in Waltham. Nobody sees a thing. So, I guess this is going to be my new squash disposal system. Be careful driving through my neighborhood in broad daylight.