Tuesday morning started cold and gray. We fed the chickens and the horses and headed into the field to harvest a few ripe items. Cherry tomatoes and green beans are par for the course, but cucuzza? Has anyone, especially those north of the Mason Dixon line, ever heard of a cucuzza? Or am I just especially ignorant when it comes to vegetables? Marie might as well have been talking about a kazoo when she told me what we were off to harvest. For a moment I pictured a field of tambourines, cymbals, and clappy wood things, and kazoos – all of the instruments that come in those plastic drums.

A cucuzza, it turns out, is a beast of a vegetable. It’s a Latin American zucchini that can feed the Duggar family for a week. This thing is no joke. Our mission: to harvest the medium sized cucuzzas before they turned into full grown monsters – a few of which we harvested anyways, and were the size and weight of one of my thighs.

The cold and gray skies started to warn us with some sprinkles and flashes of lightening, so we loaded up the tractor and started to head for cover. As fate would, and often does, have it, the tractor failed to start. Which left ample time for the pouring rain to start. Between getting the tractor going, picking up the stuff that bounced off the back of the trailer, and opening and closing gates, we were fairly soaked by the time we reached the house.

Since farm work is basically null and void in the presence of torrential downpours we took the rest of the day off, I went back to my room to do a little flamenco dancing on the water bugs. It seemed like the Southern thing to do.

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