4. What Does the Fall . . .

Photo Credit: Dee Dubs

When I used to visit my family - Cucurbitaceae my father made us sit at

the table and would bang our useless elbows (rounded and totally indistinguishable from our bodies) on the table and demand

silence.

He’d then read the following, in a slow manner that would have us younger squashes squirming

in our seats:

We were meant to shout “Here!” when we heard our name called.

“Extra Young Dipper!”
”Turk’s Turban!”"

“Tennessee Spinning!”

“Speckled Swan!”

and then always the last, his favorite:

“Daisy!”

and then we could all start eating.