Mutant Popcorn

 (This is from 1998)

We are not the world’s best gardeners.  We do okay, but not everything we plant grows, and rabbits eat some, and the weeds often get the best of us.  Our tomato plants are unkempt, and the chances of us actually eating any melons from our garden are about one in five, judging from past years.

This year, thanks to El Nino, mulch, and weeding, our garden is better than ever.  Almost everything looks good.  But, something strange is going on with the popcorn.

To put our popcorn situation in context, (and how many families even have a popcorn situation) you would have had to see our popcorn crop last year.  The harvest consisted of approximately one-half cup of popcorn (not an exaggeration) which didn’t actually pop.  For anyone who wants to achieve this level of popcorn failure, I suggest following these steps: 1.  Use old seeds, 2. Don’t work up the soil very well, 3. Don’t weed or cultivate those few seeds that actually germinate.

So, this year I decided to put forth a little bit of effort.  I spent some serious time making sure the soil was ready.  I actually spaced out the seeds and rows according to the instructions. 

Now, when I walk into the garden, I feel like I’m in the rain forest.  Our popcorn plants are at least ten feet tall.  They tower over the sweet corn by several feet.  Yesterday I stood at the end of the row and realized that the developing cobs are at my eye level, and I’m 6’3” tall!

Why did this happen?  I have no idea.  I think it was a matter of the soil being just the right temperature when I planted the seeds, along with the extreme fertility of the soil (thanks sheep!) and the luck of optimal temperatures and rainfall while it started to grow.  Or, it could be that when I traded our cow in for those seeds from the old crone… no, wait: that’s bean seeds, not popcorn seeds. 

I figure that there will be one of two results from these gigantic popcorn stalks.  Either we will get a bountiful crop of popcorn, or we’ll come to realize that the plants put everything they had into height, and had nothing left to put into the cobs.

Or, perhaps it will be great popcorn, and the first time we use it, our house will be blown to smithereens by the force of the popping. 

Sometimes I wonder if we accidentally got some strain of mutant popcorn that was being developed by the CIA for use in Roswell New Mexico, but that seems a little unlikely.   One thing I can predict with certainty, is that the telling of the story of our popcorn over the years will not find those stalks getting any smaller.   In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Jack and the giant eventually become part of the story too.