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.
Heee! I'd of just left it there.
Posted by: Sally | October 11, 2008 at 07:45 AM
"We have an equal proportion of nice neighbors to weird neighbors. It’s hard to tell who’s who sometimes."
And the ones bowling pumpkins would be ...?
Posted by: Jennifer Juniper | October 11, 2008 at 08:34 AM
Ha! It's exactly like that kid's story James and the Giant Peach! That's all I could think about reading your story. I was hoping your squash would make it to the ocean...
Posted by: Mary | October 11, 2008 at 08:37 AM
This is sooo true! But you probably have to know Waltham to really picture this special neighborhood blend! And I would have loved to see your squash rolling down Plympton Street (that's where we had lived 4 years ago)! Happy belated birthday by the way...
Posted by: houllie | October 13, 2008 at 09:56 AM
It sounds like you've hit upon a New England version of cheese-rolling.
The question is, can you get several hundred people to chase the squash down the hill?
Posted by: adele | October 13, 2008 at 03:58 PM
Hahahahahah!!!! Ahhhhh! Hahahahahahahhaha!
Posted by: Lily VS | October 13, 2008 at 04:06 PM
Lily VS: Are you drunk again?
Adele: Only if we fill it with Snickers bars.
houllie: Ah, Plympton St. Nice neighborhood, and lots of hills, too. You can hardly blame the squash for wanting to be FREE!
Mary: Maybe the Charles River if he's really unlucky.
Jennifer Juniper: Exactly!
Sally: I was worried there would be some kind of squash-related accident and somehow they would be able to trace it back to me. Now I know. Nobody gives a crap.
Posted by: Tammy | October 14, 2008 at 09:48 PM
I'm amazed your husband's discarded dunkin' donuts cups didn't slow the squash's momentum enough for you to catch it.
Posted by: Plastic fantastic | October 15, 2008 at 11:26 AM
Touche, Jennifer Juniper. Hahaha.
I would have been laughing my ass off.
Posted by: Melissa | October 15, 2008 at 07:18 PM