Thursday, October 17, 2013

Gourds

It's that time of year again.


I am absolutely enamored with gourds. They are fabulous. 

Just think about it. Is there any other creation on this earth so diverse? So beautiful and ugly and colorful and bendy? Gourds represent the utopian mindset of tolerance that we have been striving to reach in the world ever since racism and stereotyping and segregation first spewed forth from the first caveman's developing cognitive ability to hate. 

You can put ten thousand gourds in a giant basket and not a single one will find its identical twin. Can you say the same about humans? No. The statistic for identical twins is 3.5 out of every 1000 people (twinstwice.com). 

You can put ten thousand gourds in a giant basket and not a single one will complain about his neighbor's warts touching him. He will not complain about his neighbor's bumps or bruises or unusual rotundness. The gourds embrace these anomalies. They understand the beauty behind each other's textures. 

I love gourds. 

My goal this Fall is to collect one hundred gourds and pumpkins and there is nothing that will stop me from completing this goal aside from maybe running out of space, in which case I will juggle indefinitely. 


Gourd Count: 2/100

Gourd donations welcome.

The South

I was in Chattanooga. On a fish. Excitement.


There were glasses of sweet tea and friendly truck drivers and southern accents and I have nothing else to say.