A Gardening Failure

This summer I grew melons as an experiment. We have a short growing season so I chose seeds of a variety that would mature in three months. I planted the seeds, erected a fence of netting for the vines to climb, and waited.

Soon we had dozens of small, green, fuzzy balls growing on the vines. As the weeks went by the balls grew larger and turned bright yellow. We weren't sure how to tell if they were ripe, but after looking them up online, they turned out to be casaba melons, with a hard outer skin, and were probably ready to eat.

So I harvested one, chopped it open with some difficulty, and carved off a piece for Ron and one for myself. Sadly, the flesh was hard, dry and flavourless. Ron wasn't impressed.

"Did you ask my permission to plant these melons?" he questioned me.

"No, Sir," I replied. Was I in trouble? I tried to explain, "I thought it was a good idea at the time."

"Well, it wasn't. In future, check with me before you buy something you aren't familiar with. Next year, get cantaloupe seeds."

"Yes, Sir." I had a good idea that my bottom was going to pay for my gardening fiasco. I also hated the idea of sending two dozen melons  to the composter. I divided the melon into quarters, then eighths, and put the pieces, seeds and all, outside under the bird feeder.

 Within the hour the squirrels and chipmunks had removed the seeds and eaten everything but the hard skin. When I told Ron, he was pleased I had found a good use for them, so it turned out that I didn't pay a painful price after all.

Only 23 melons to go. I hope the squirrels are hungry.