The failure and the success of the gardening: luffa (絲瓜, 菜瓜): 種菜瓜辛酸史

No one admitted the failure of gardening as often as Thomas Jefferson did.  We share his pain very well, as I kept saying everything in our garden is a living thing; they either survive and thrive or wither and die.  In June 1790 Jefferson gave his prized grains and African rice to Madison, (who passed along to his father) and many others.  More often than not they failed to germinate, but he was never deterred saying “Botany is the school for patience” and told one of his botanical correspondents that he would be happy if one new species grew out of one hundred, and “the ninety nine found otherwise are more than paid for.”

Luffa (絲瓜, 菜瓜) is not native to western Pennsylvania; they never felt at home here.  It took us three years to get it right.  We harvested one luffa or two last year; it grew ever so slowly, requiring 150-200 warm days to mature; a necessity that western Pennsylvania climate cannot offer.  The luffa fruits met an early demise when the frost came.

Luffa are also not competitive with the neighboring Italian squash or morning glories or even weeds.  This is why we uprooted the morning glories with no mercy whenever they met our eyes and weeded around luffa diligently.  We kept Italian squashes and Taiwanese pumpkins away from luffa, who enjoyed a space of their own.

We germinated luffa seeds indoor as early as in March, no later than early April; grew them with tender love, providing with plant fluorescent lights.  They were already “young adolescents” when they braved the new world into the garden around Memorial Day.

We’re so rewarded with the harvest of luffa that we’re able to share with our good friends in Pittsburgh.  We harvested nine luffa and some Italian squashes (see photo above) before heading for Pittsburgh to deliver.  Both Katy and I searched the garden aiming to harvest one dozen of luffa yesterday, but it came up short; only nine harvested.

This morning Katy made her round doing her “artificial inseminating” job (Katy is a 'botanical matchmaker', a title bestowed by Janice) and found another four mature luffa (see photo below).  These “considerate” luffa must have found a way to hide themselves yesterday and reveal themselves today, saying they belong to our dinner table.

There will be more stories about the failure of the gardening.