Showing posts with label Pollinate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pollinate. Show all posts

Thursday, September 10, 2009

The Summer Squash Is Not My Friend

In April I bought a Patty Pan squash. Al told me that her mother insisted that squashes need friends and will not grow as a single. But I didn't buy a companion. Needless to say, the patty pan squash was a failure. I got two squashes out of it. The rest shriveled and died. So, I bought and planted seeds for another mini summer squash. This time, I planted two seeds and got two plants. Both plants give constant blossoms. Blossoms every morning. Yet, no squash. All the little squash turn yellow, shrivel and die. I believe this is because they flowers did not get pollinated. Well, gosh, I just don't know how to remedy this problem. Any ideas?
PS. There are loads of bees around my house. They seem to shun the squash.

Monday, August 31, 2009

The Wasp and the Luffa

The luffa: where did I leave off? The story of the luffa in a few sentences for those of you who do not remember. Surprise-- a luffa is a squash! I bought some seeds from Target and planted them several months ago. Two big leaves popped out right away. Then, nothing. The two seemingly enormous leaves just sat there for weeks. Very boring. Finally, a third leave (very different shape) shot out from the center of the two leaves. Then, again, nothing for several weeks. The leaves began to look scraggly and tattered. It seemed that the experiment to grow a luffa would be unsuccessful.
Expecting failure at this point, I was shocked when, in what seemed like two weeks, the plant experienced a sudden growth spurt. It climbed its way up and past the 2' thin bamboo sticks tee-peed around it. Every morning there were at least two new perfect yellow flowers, the color of butter. The vines teemed with baby (about 1/2 a centimeter long) squashes in the shape of male genitalia (not joking). It seemed like we were in for a very bountiful harvest of luffas. Sadly, all but one of the babies turned yellow, shriveled, and fell off the plant. The luffa retained only one pollinated squash. As it turns out, squash have both female and male flowers and require a visit from bees and insects in order to grow. All those sad shriveled yellow mini squashes died because they were never properly pollinated.
But all was not lost; one luffa remained. For several weeks it just got bigger and bigger. The plant looked quite humorous-- a pretty large green squash hanging from a pitiful looking vine with no other squash to keep it company. What must the neighbors think?
I thought it would look cool if I could train the vines around a hula hoop. The luffa is not too keen on the hoop and it is hardly snaking around the thing. Rather, its tendrils are wrapping around other vines. There is hope, however, since the luffa seems to sit around for weeks before deciding its next course of action. So, I imagine, I will wake up one morning to find the luffa has wrapped itself around the hula hoop. Won't that be a sight? A circle with giant gourds hanging all around it! A neighbor even complimented my hula hoop, though it could have been one of those, "that-girl-is-insane-but-I-don't-know-what-else-to-say-so-I-will-just-tell-her-I-like-her-hula-hoop compliments."
Last week, for several days, a clan of wasps settled into Pacific Beach. Maybe they were taking a mini vacation from Tuesday to Friday. Perhaps there was a wasp convention or something. The wasps seemed to adore the luffa. Always one or two crawling all around the vines. I am sensitive to bee stings (I am not sure about wasps, but I did not feel like finding out) so watering was scary-- who wants to piss off a vacationing wasp?
It might be just a coincidence, but this week, there are four more pollinated luffas growing at a lively pace. I might get a bath sponge after all!
So, thank you wasps for refraining from stinging me and for pollinating my luffas. (If only you also pollinated my summer squash! Those plants refuse to give me anything- Where is Demeter when you need her?). And thank you mother earth.