Diary of My Country Life-July 31st, 2025

The original source of this blog: https://www.lotusandmichael.com/blogs/diary-of-my-country-life

07/31/2025 Thursday 69-91F Mostly Rain

I remember that during my childhood and teen hood, my parents used to plant loofahs in spring. They sowed the seeds along the walls of the courtyard; once the seeds sprouted, they would tie a string for each to grow along onto the top of the walls. Therefore, when summer came, the walls were covered with lush green loofah leaves, and bright yellow flowers sprinkled among them swaying in breezes. 

Usually at the end of July, or early August, dishes cooked with loofah started to appear on our dining table—garlic flavored, stir-fried loofah; loofah with eggs; loofah pork soup; loofah and tomatoes… We ate loofahs almost every day, and sometimes even twice a day. They tasted a bit sweet to me, and were soft when they were cooked. I reluctantly took one piece, mixed it and some soup with rice in my bowl; my brows puckered in a frown: “Loofah again! I hate loofah! Its greenish color is like big worms!”

My parents made no comments on my complaint. I knew that no matter how much I disliked loofah, it would be on the plate again next day; I would continue to mix it with rice and swallow quickly since it didn’t deserve my effort to chew on.

Loofah was part of my summer memory of my younger age, though in a hue of darker color.

Then I came to the US.  After several years’ settlement, one day I passed someone’s house, over the fence I could see a giant patch of green and the familiar yellow flowers—that’s loofah! I stopped, looked through the fence. Hanging under the trellis, dozens of loofahs in different sizes stretched their slender long body playfully winking at me: “Hey, I am still here!”

For some strange reason, my saliva began to run. I hadn’t seen loofahs for a long time. How could I forget them? My memory about loofah must have been secretly altered, or the switch of my stomach was finally shifted because since then, I wanted to eat loofah very much. I explored the nearby Asian markets but found them only twice.

“So, let me plant some loofahs!”  This March when I stood in front of my empty vegetable bed, I planned.

I purchased the seeds, planted four only as a test. In early May, I noticed that two of the four had put out their shoots. I covered them with willow cloches. Then the weather turned warmer, they grew at their full speed as if hadn’t they done so, they would miss their whole lives. 

Now my two loofahs have completely taken over my fence on the side of the vegetable bed. If I didn’t contain them, I believe running over all the fences is just a matter of time to one single loofah plant. 

I never thought that loofah could have such a power and an energy; perhaps because I took everything my parents did for granted so I never really paid attention to them. I look at my loofahs, shaking my head: They crawl over the fence quickly and have broadened their territory by invading my neighbor’s yard. 

I throw the branches which crossed the border back into my yard over the fence. Obviously the loofahs are unhappy—a lot of their branches have lost their support so they can only hang and pile on each other; while I am unhappy too—they look pretty messy. What can I do with them? How to trellis them in a more aesthetic way?

Lucky that the germination rate was only half. If all the four seeds survived, the situation would be worse since I don’t think I have the heart to kill the baby seedlings. 

Anyway, one more good thing is, when I threw back the loofah branches, I noticed that some baby loofahs were developing. So very soon, perhaps in one or two weeks, I can harvest my first loofah! Very likely I will cook it with some shrimps and clams to create a beautiful, umami seafood soup which I couldn’t think of in my childhood.

Weeds keep growing. As long as there is little dirt, they set their foot in. If vegetables can be as tough and stubborn as them, probably there won’t be any starvation in this world. I hand weed them, with a little trowel. For some tiny ones among the pavers on the patios, I use my fingers to gently pull them out hopefully with the whole roots. But to the flowering weeds, usually I will keep them until the flowers fade: They have made a lot of efforts to grow and to flower, so I, the bees, and the butterflies should enjoy them first before letting them go.

I dig up the weeds along the fences, the drainage, in the flower beds and vegetable beds. The sun is hot; the soil is steaming since it’s soaked with rainwater but this condition is easier for weeding since I can get as much roots of the weeds as possible from soft soil. But I also know that I can never get rid of them: Their seeds will be easily spread by wind, by birds; a touch of soil, water and sun will make them germinate; nobody can stop a life from growing.

So one basket, two baskets, three baskets… My sweat beams drop into the soil, which will be appreciated by something down there if they don’t mind the little sodium contained in them. But sweat also can bring harmful substances out of the body and cool off the body temperature, it’s one rock four birds.

Though nobody likes invaders in the garden, I do appreciate moss. Somehow I even like watching them, and secretly wish them creep onto the stones, the pavers, the soils in shady areas. I think it adds a harmless, artistic touch to them. Therefore every time when I sweep the patios, if by chance I brush away a patch of moss, I usually put it back. I like sunny, tidy garden; but I also can’t resist a few mossy corners which make my garden more genuine. 

Ok, done for today.