When I was little, our backyard was one giant hill that sloped down away from the house and was covered with yellow with cheery dandelions in the spring and perfect for sledding the few times that we got snow in the winter. My mother kept a garden at the far right corner of the backyard, at the spot where the hill began to level out a bit. She always grew tomatoes, zucchini, and cucumbers, along with a smattering of other vegetables. The zucchinis always seemed to be prolific, and we spent our summers eating them in every way possible.
At some point, we would head off for vacation, and one of the neighbors would kindly tend the garden in our absence. We were on one of those vacations when a zucchini went off the grid.
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