Our Back 40

In the back yard of my childhood home there was an apple tree. It didn't last long, I can remember trying to get rid of the stump - eventually making way for the swing set that would stand for many more years. When the swing set came in, that corner of the back yard was covered in gravel - good for Tonka truck scraping and hauling projects, but not so comfortable in which to land.
We had a good time with the swing set - though I think we did more climbing on the structure than any actual swinging. It served as a launching platform for countless fireworks displays. It was the base of operations for a great many super hero federations. It grew tired and rusty as we found places to play outside of our own back yard.
When at last it was time for the swing set to go away, I volunteered for the demolition project. I spent a day unbolting and collapsing the red and green monstrosity. The pieces that were less cooperative were twisted and bent until they could be removed. Finally, the frame was pulled up out of the dirt that had been buried for so many years. The gravel stayed for a few more months, and then it was carted away as well.
We were left with a little plot of land, big enough for another swing set, and had it been twenty years later it would have been just the right size for putting in a hot tub. But this was the seventies - in Boulder, Colorado - there was only one thing to do: put in a vegetable garden.
We dug and turned and irrigated and sowed. We all made some effort on our little fraction of an acre, but it was definitely my father's baby. We were all a little surprised when anything came up at all, but we started to believe when we saw green things growing where we had planted them. Sadly, the only thing that grew successfully was zucchini. We harvested the first large crop of the great green squash and waited for the corn or the carrots to come along. The tomatoes withered on the vine, and the zucchini kept coming. It has become apparent over time that my father did not have any particular talent for raising zucchini - the trick would be to grow just as much zucchini as you might need. And we never did need any zucchini. We ate zucchini bread, zucchini boats, fried, sliced, diced, shredded, breaded, baked, broiled, and permutations heretofore unknown zucchini. It wasn't until the snow began to fall that the crop began to fail, and it was the first green thing we saw when Spring came.
It only occurs to me now that the only way to deliver my family from this curse would have been to go put the swing set back.