I Love Luffa! ...and Spring Lovemaking....
- Wynona Lori Hussack
- Jan 13, 2021
- 6 min read
This past spring was a very wet spring. Wetter than any in my memory here in the Okanagan Valley, – the only designated desert area in Canada. So wet, so chilly that the only things that were thriving were the wild mushrooms and moss, and of course those black little beetles I call armadillo bugs with their funny little armour that looks like - you guessed it - a miniature armadillo! These little bugs roll up into a ball when you touch them, which is a marvelous feature if you can’t find your marbles.
This wet cold weather came after a very promising early spring with lots of sunshine - glorious days that led me into a false sense of security, actually complacency. I had started many plants a couple of weeks earlier than usual, with most being ready to plant out into the garden well before what is the acceptable protocol. But I am not an unruly gardener for nothin’! So, with the sunshine streaming in day after day, I started planting my tender little start-ups into my garden beds. Out went the tomato plants, the pepper plants and even some beans. Of course the peas and all the greens had been planted the month before and we were already beginning to nibble on them.
However, when I got to the Luffa I hesitated... they are a very warm weather plant that I had tried to grow on two other occasions, but the season just wasn’t long enough to get them to fully ripen on vine before they can be harvested. So I knew we had to get them up and going earlier in the season. I had four little luffas, looking all vigorous, happy and healthy begging to be put into the special planter I had reserved for them. So, taking a deep breath, I planted them – after all the sun was luring me as only he can, whispering promises of a long hot summer.
Well little did I know what was to come. Within a very few days, the days became chillier – not out of the ordinary in springtime in Canada - so I didn’t worry too much. But then the temperatures kept going down as did the rain, plummeting and almost reaching freezing (thankfully not!). There were a few nights that I actually covered the tomato plants and the baby luffas, just in case.
And the luffa limped along, wilting, slumbering, shivering away. One day I came out and one had died! Oh no! Then a couple days later, under the relentless rain, another one passed away. I was down to 2 plants! I found myself surrendering to what seemed the inevitable – the failed experiment once again of my luffa challenge but this time it was happening at the beginning of the season instead of the end. When a few days later a third one gave up the ghost, I gave all my energy to the last survivor, touching her, talking to her, seeing her leaves limp and dying, ready to pack it in. I sang her a love song and promised her sunny days ahead but also told her I understood if she couldn’t do this anymore.
Taking a philosophical approach, I planted a butternut squash plant in the same planter, at the other end. I was thinking of it as a temporary home until I found another spot for it, but also had decided if Ms. Luffa gave up, then there was something else all ready to step in and take over the lease.
Lo and behold the sunshine arrived - breaking through every day - warming the soil, encouraging all my little plants out of hibernation, tickling them to stand up and dance to a new dawn. Day after day like clockwork the sun rose, the clouds dispersed and suddenly we were in full-fledged summer! Wow! Everything popped into life, stretching their limbs, opening to the nurturing heat that was calling them upwards to their whole magnificence, urging their leaves to grow, their flower petals to unfurl and tentatively spread themselves to accept all the pollinators. The bees arrived as did the wasps and all sorts of insects, as if overnight.
And miracle of miracles, after checking on her morning after morning, the one remaining luffa started sprouting a new leaf, timidly at first as if not believing the warmth it was feeling. She must have held on by contemplating my promise that warmer weather was a’comin’. And hold on she did. Day after day her one little leaf got stronger and larger as more leaves began to peak through her well weathered stem. Pretty soon she was doing the luffa dance of happiness and bursting forth with life, rapidly growing longer and longer with more leaves and some early flowers.
With luffa, the first flowers do not usually get pollinated as the plant produces both the female and male flowers separately that need a suitor to come along and carry that pollen from the male to the female. So, the female flowers show up first, but with no male in sight these virgins shrivel up and drop into the soil, never to have received the culmination of a wild night out. But eventually there are enough blooms happening that the chances are good that both the female and male flowers will appear at the same time. So once this happens - voila’ -we have contact, Captain Kirk!
So, the bees and other insects made love to my one remaining luffa plant, searching in his little flower, reaching in and grabbing onto all it had to offer, then flying or crawling to her large, quivering open petals, depositing what is needed to produce life. One, then two little gourds started forming, pushing their way through the beautiful lemon coloured flowers. This is all I saw for a few weeks.
The flowers kept showing up, but… they were disappearing! This Luffa had chosen to climb the fence between my yard and the neighbours, where her flowers were accessible to the deer! Every day I would come out and more flowers chomped on, vanished in the night. At first I thought it was some sort of bug, but this was too thorough – no evidence left behind, the whole delectable flower digested. So I am still not 100% sure if it was the deer, or some hungry rodent/racoon or huge bug!
Then on a renegade vine that looked like it had fallen down only to wrap itself a wee bit up the fence, I noticed a third gourd! My feet performed a happy dance in that little space, as I stroked her gourds and murmured sweet nothings into the ethers.
Well, once established and having survived the coldest beginning to any luffa anywhere, her gourds grew, all three of them - healthy and strong, big, bigger, biggest! These future defoliators of skin must be left on vine for as long as possible as it is best if they dry while still attached to the whole plant – otherwise I would be resigned to another year with dead skin cells flaking off my body.
And since we were blessed with a long, hot summer and very warm fall, I was able to leave them on until the end of October when the first two were mostly dry. With my fingers crossed, I decided to leave the last straggler for a couple more weeks hoping against hope that it would at least begin to dry so I could pick it. But as the temperatures dropped closer to freezing, I finally capitulated to mother nature and brought it in too.
So, in order to actually get luffa sponges from the gourds the gourds need to be crispy dry before removing the outer skin; so there they sat, balanced on top of a bowl (my fancy drying facilities!), with me rotating them every couple of days.
Finally the day arrived! I picked up the driest and largest gourd, banged it on the table to loosen the outer layer and peeled it off. It is best to keep a bowl or box or at least a plate under the luffa as once I started peeling, the black seeds started falling out of one end and the other. And once peeled, I was able to keep tapping and shaking it, removing all the seeds from the inner chambers of this most fascinating plant. It was beautiful! Perfection! My skin tingled with the knowledge that soon it would feel the gentle scraping of the luffa sponge, removing all that old dead stuff!
And because I enjoyed that so much I waited a few more days to draw out this ridiculous joy I felt at unveiling another sponge. So now I had two and a whole handful of seeds for the next year! Happy dance once again. The third one was left to its own devices for a few more weeks as I wanted to make sure it was completely dry. I wasn’t sure if it had been ripe enough when I picked it, but thought it was worth a try. And sure enough – bang, bang, tap tap, the skin removed easily with that wonderfully crunchy sound that was music to my ears.
So here I am in January, content with my Luffa and grateful for the luck of a third try. I have not used it yet as life has been very full these last 2 months. But now that I am thinking about it, off to the shower I go, luffa in hand, confident in emerging with glowing skin.
Comments