GPS - Gourds, Pumpkin, Squash

Day 5: Do you know how to use GPS? I'm not talking navigation here. Do you know the difference between (G) gourds, (P) pumpkin and (S) squash? To put this into the proper light, let me begin by saying that all Siamese felines are cats, but not all cats are Siamese. GPS are squashes, all of them, unequivocally, but although pumpkins are also squash, acorn squash are not pumpkins, and neither pumpkins nor squash are gourds. Many county and state fair judges have argued whether a giant squash can be awarded the prize for "largest pumpkin," but when a 1242-pound Hubbard comes up against a 1174-pound Atlantic Giant, the smaller Atlantic Giant nearly always rolls away with the blue ribbon. Gourds, on the other hand, are generally considered inedible. They have little flesh inside a hard skin, and although some of them could be eaten in a pinch, a nice Kabocha would make a much better meal. Some gourds even contain toxins. Gourds are best used as decorative items, although a plump pumpkin or speckled squash could easily qualify for the same job. It's GPS season! Enjoy!

Happy Harvest!

Day 348: One last shot from the Puyal...Washington State Fair, this one to wish you a happy Autumn while I'm on the far side of the Mountain taking photos of volunteer crews working on various projects for National Public Lands Day. I drew light duty this time around, but I can't promise that I won't get my hands dirty at something. Nothing is harder for me to do than stand idly by while other people work.

I Love Autumn, Warts And All

Day 13: If you asked me to name my favourite season, I would answer "Autumn" without the slightest hesitation. Certainly it is a time when storms may keep me pinned down at home, but even torrential downpours and the howl of wind have a lyrical quality to them. When they lift and the freshly washed sky again leaps overhead, it has an intensity of blue not seen at any other time of year. Autumn is the season of jewel-tones, rich colors which enfold the visual sense in their warmth, and nothing says "autumn" quite so clearly to me as a bowlful of festive gourds.

My gardening season is too short by a good third to be able to grow these otherwise useless cucurbits, so I buy them in a departure from my accustomed thriftiness. They won't dry properly in this climate, so in a few weeks when they begin to mold, I'll resign them to the compost pile as I tell myself I've gotten my money's worth from the pleasure they gave during their brief span as objets d'art. After all, a bowlful of gourds doesn't cost as much as a movie, and it lasts longer (a feeble justification, but one which has served me in good stead in other matters as well). In their rustic charm lies a reminder for those stormy days when I long to be out hiking: Autumn is beautiful, warts and all.

Fair Fare

Day 345: Some folks go to the Fair for the big-name entertainment shows. Others go for the food. Some go to ride the rides and play for prizes on the midway. Some (although I cannot comprehend the logic) go to throw away their money buying things no human being could ever need in any of the increasingly larger commercial venues. Some want to see local talent on display in the art and photography pavilions. Others enjoy watching demonstrations of wool-spinning and sheep-shearing. For me, two things make a Fair: animals and vegetables. Without pigs and giant pumpkins, without Grange displays and exotic breeds of chickens, there is no Fair.

This morning found me making a beeline for the Grange building with the tripod tucked under my arm. Last year, the Grangers found themselves in new quarters, and it was a change for the better as far as lighting was concerned. However, as luck would have it, some time after the Fair closed, the new Grange building burnt to the ground. The new "building" is a giant tent, and the lighting is almost as poor as it was in the Showplex Building where vegetables took a back seat to vacuum cleaners and knives guaranteed to stay sharp forever. The floral show is housed in the same tent, as are the prize-winning pumpkins. Sadly in the shadows these days, dazzling dahlias and gorgeous gourds don't deserve the level of illumination reserved for aromatherapy diffusers and magnetic jewelry. After all, they're just to look at, not to sell and buy.

A Glad, Good September Morn!

Day 336: By the time this goes to press, I should be a few miles up the trail, so I want to take this (scheduled) opportunity to wish my readers a glad, good September Morn! Remember that patience is a virtue, and it will be rewarded when the daily feature resumes on Tuesday.