At this time of year I tend to notice how everybody is going on and on about their vegetable gardens. They are all so smug and impressed with their gardening prowess and bounty.I want to go on and on about something too ! (hear the whine in my voice?), but I do not grow a vegetable garden for a plethora of reasons. A.) There are many perfectly stocked farmers markets in my area loaded with beautiful  produce  at dirt cheap prices  B.)Being an ornamental gardener if something seems off or doesn’t look it’s best I can move it, cut it back or replace it. Not so with the veggies, they must remain and try to produce . Does not work with my OCD.  C.)Given my failure rate with so very many types of plants, why would I add one more that may crash and burn , that seems like setting myself up for more heartbreak. Add to that ego slam a family that “tolerates” vegetables when they appear on the plate as opposed to “enjoying” them and I don’t really see the point for all that effort.

But since I do not like to be left out of the party, I will wax on about the two semi-veggies I DO grow. First is the bottle gourd. Given that it is  a squash plant, it alone amoung many seedlings survived the miserable excuse of an unweeded bed my cutting garden was this year. Meant to be the centerpeice of a sea of zinnias and Bells of Ireland, instead it is a jewel in the crabgrass. It is grown to be used as a container, or for me hopefully birdhouses if I can dry it correctly. And guess what?  even though it is a squash you can walk by me without lowering your gaze lest I hand you a bag of it, and you will not find any on your doorstop or your car seat either. Nor will I have to scour the internet for clever ways to incorporate it into tasty baked goods just to get rid of it. I may even have too few!

Secondly I am growing hyacinth bean (lablab purpurea) which is a wonderful vine that I spent $2 on seeds for several years ago and have had from that investment much August joy as it climbs with it’s big bold burgandy leaves and comes into flower with lovely purplish-white flowers that will then turn into electric purple seed pods, from which I will collect seed and do it all again next year. Hummingbirds go ga-ga over it too.

So there, beans and squash. No family drama, no ego slams, no worries about crop failure or late blight. Just birdhouses and purple-y goodness.