Of Vegetables and Rebels (and Rebellious Vegetables)

I will never forget the first time Ken showed me this house. The transfer from Michigan to Mississippi came quickly, and so he was down here for two and a half months before Lotus and I (with Joaquin in uterine tow) followed.

During that time, Ken was in charge of finding us a house. Yes, that's right, he picked our house sight (mostly) unseen by myself. So the day we took possession, and he drove me through the neighborhood grandly named "Plantation", I was struck dumb. Surely there was some mistake? Surely this was a passage to another, more modest neighborhood? But no, these giant plantation-style houses were, in fact, part of the same neighborhood I was to live in. Amazing! I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. I had come from a 900 square foot, GI Bill-built, brick ranch from a Detroit suburb. To me, this was some sort of golf course-centered Shangra-La, with a mysterious entity called a "homeowners association" guarding us all with their "covenants". I had little idea what those last two points meant, other than we had to pay them a large sum of money each year, but it seemed to me, at first, rather like nobles presenting their king with a portion of their harvest and whatnot.

Ah....but fast forward 5 years later, and how the nobles stew in malcontent. What once seemed to be an offering of goodwill to the HOA has now begun to smack of "protection money" paid out to the Mafia. Covenants are enforced so irregularly, dues spent so recklessly, the very identity of those on "the Board" so shrouded in mystery that one cannot help but bristle under the yoke of Plantation tyrany!

And so, dear readers, the suburban rebel has undertaken a small civil war from the cul-de-sac at the back of the sub. She has, in clear violation of the covenants, planted food crops in the front yard. Yes, that's right, she has dared to plant one watermelon vine, five tomato plants, and two peppers in the flower bed right smack in the front of her house. She has gleefully watered those plants faithfully! She has weeded! She has taken steps to protect them from rabbits AND insects (organic steps, to be sure)! She has spoken soothing words over them to encourage their growth!

But for weeks and weeks, strectching into months- nothing. Oh, the plants flourished, but they set no fruit. The suburban rebel grew fretful. How can one violate covenants against front yard food crops when her crops weren't....er.....cropping? It even robbed her of some sort of satistaction when the neighbor, who is the "block captain" (read: local agent of the HOA board), saw her watermelon vine, enquired about it, and wouldn't believe the suburban rebel when she told her it was a food crop.
"Really?" the snitch said (she's not really a snitch, she's a great neighbor and I like her a lot, but for the dramatic effect, I have to use certain vocabulary...) "Watermelon?" she looked it over thoughtfully. "I just see pretty yellow flowers." The rebel scowled behind her.

And then, one day, it happened! A watermelon! Then two! Then two more! Growing, so quickly you could almost stand still and watch them get bigger. And today, two tiny green tomatoes were spotted! Now, if the peppers would only cooperate (blasted peppers, if only they weren't so delicious!), then victory would be mine! I would show those HOA mafia-types where they could stick their random covenants!

As it is, only a few more weeks, and I plan on picking the first fruit of the watermelon, and offering a slice of it to the cul-de-sac snitch. We'll see how much the HOA is willing to enforce their stupid rules when there's the promise of Mississippi-grown watermelon staring them in the face!

(end with the sound of evil laughter, only I don't know how I would translate that to type.)