I did not buy the zucchinis. Fleet Farm had a 2 for 1 sale on seedlings in little peat pots, and the mini zucchini plants looked particularly robust. I was momentarily tempted, but I demurred.

The world is divided between those who blithely plant zucchinis and those who graciously adopt the zucchinis that the other folks grow. Since I am in the second group, I can’t upset the delicate balance by jumping sides. If I did, I would be riddled with guilt when the world sagged under mountains of uneaten, rotting zucchinis.

No one would describe zucchinis as a stand alone vegetable. They need a large cast of charismatic supporting characters such as butter, olive oil, basil, tomatoes, onions and peppers. Large quantities of sugar and spice are necessary if the squash is turned into bread.

In response to a large influx of zucchini gifts one summer, I devised an entree which we call “Pasta, Z and Cheese”. Like all casseroles, ingredients and quantities can be tinkered with extensively. The basic game plan follows:

• 12 ounces of pasta, such as shells or penne
• 2 or 3 medium zucchini cut into cubes
• 1 green pepper, diced
• 1 small onion,diced
• 1 cup grated sharp cheddar cheese
• 3 ounces blue cheese crumbles ( If you hate blue cheese, use an Italian hard cheese.)
• 24 ounces tomato sauce
• Basil, salt and pepper to taste

Cook the pasta until al dente. Cook the vegetables until barely tender remembering that zucchini quickly turns to mush. Mix all ingredients together and spoon into casserole dishes. Sprinkle with dried bread crumbs. At this point, freeze what you want for later and microwave or bake what you want for dinner. Since I don’t own a microwave, I’m sure you will figure out the time better than I. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes in a conventional oven.

One zucchini recipe is not nearly enough to handle  late summer’s zucchini gifts.  I recently read that weird ice cream flavors such as Maple-Bacon, Black Pepper, Bubblegum with Beet Juice and Black Sesame Seaweed are the rage in New York this summer. When the tide of zucchinis washes in this August, perhaps I can whip up a nice batch of Lime-Zucchini ice cream. It’s worth a try.

I believe that the perfect celebration of the Fourth of July would be a nationwide series of tea parties. I am not referring to the far right political party but the genuine item, a tea party with a pot of tea (hot or iced), triangles of cucumber sandwiches, fresh strawberries and bite sized sweets.

America is in desperate need of reeducation in civility, and nothing is more civilizing than a lovely tea party.

I’ve had many tea parties for the younger members in our family, and I’ve enjoyed every one immensely. But tea party etiquette must be carefully explained beforehand:

• No shouting
• Lots of  “please” and “thank yous” as in ” Would you please pass the petit fours?”
• Happy, interesting conversation with everyone having equal opportunities to speak

After these ground rules are established, it is not necessary to say, “no bullying or name calling”. It’s obvious.

Our tea parties often are  held in the small woods next to our house, and we sit on a blanket spread out over the pine needles. We have been so successful at tea party manners that chipmunks have run over our blanket and birds have flown close by. Loud, squabbling children would never have the privilege of having animal guests.

Respect for and delight in others, awareness of our surroundings and enjoyment of good food adds up to a gracious experience for everyone.

It’s time to get out the teapot and think of someone other than ourselves. That used to be the American way and was referred to as “the common good”. I long for its return.

Only the French could have created something as marvelous as Diner en Blanc, The White Dinner. This event is an annual, invitation only, secret dinner party where the white clad guests gather at a different outdoor, public space such as The Arc de Triomphe, The Invalides or The Tuileries.

On the evening of June 16th, 2011, 8,000 Parisians filled with joyeux de vivre flocked to the Cour Carree du Louvre. A second location was added this year, and thousands more set up in front of Notre Dame Cathedral. No one knew where they were headed until 30 minutes before the event.

Those with the right social connections receive an email or call informing them of the date of the event a few days ahead of the party. They are instructed to be prepared with white clothes (hats are recommended for women), folding chairs and tables, china and stemware, a picnic in a basket and champagne.

On the night of the event, guests get a message directing them to a pre-dinner meeting site. Here they board buses which ferry them to the surprise destination. Because the organizers wish to keep the party spontaneous, no police permission is requested to use the space. Don’t contemplate what would happen in America if 10,000 people with wine bottles showed up at a moment’s notice to have a party in a public park or street!

Arriving at the destination, the guests quickly set up tables, cover them with white clothes, white flowers, white candles, china and glassware. Corks pop, elegant picnics are taken out of picnic baskets and laughter fills the air. The global economy might be collapsing around them, but the French still know the art of living well.

The start can be traced to the 1980’s, and theories on its origins abound. One version is that a French gentleman invited a few friends to The Bois de Boulogne one day in June. He asked them to wear white so they could find each other in the park. The dinner was a success so they decided to ask other friends and repeat the event the following year. The annual growth rate has been exponential.

Whatever or whoever is behind Diner en Blanc, I would love an invitation. If only I were connected.

If you can spare a few minutes, this YouTube clip puts you on the scene.

I once had lunch with a python.

We were in a ramada at the edge of a rain forest preserve, and our knowledgeable guide said,”We’re in luck, do you see that giant python in the rafters? He’s been digesting his dinner up there for a week.”

Everyone in our group was calm, knowing that pythons are nonvenomous and that we were lucky to see such a fine fellow.

We did not take a walk with the rattlesnake, however. After driving to the trail head in the Sandia Mountains in Albuquerque, I happened to glance out the car window before opening the door. A long rattlesnake was cruising across the blacktop a few feet from the car door. We waited to exit until he (or she) slithered north into the desert. Then we took the south trail head.

Our friend, Peg, has the best snake story. I first must note that she has an incredibly observant eye for nature, always spotting things the rest of us would miss.

Peg was on a guided birding hike with a group in Trinidad. She astutely observed  a snake near the path and pointed it out to the guide. He blanched. The snake was a Fer De Lance, an extremely venomous and aggressive reptile. The guide rapidly moved the group to safety.

The moral of these stories is obvious: Life is good if you keep your eyes open and your brain engaged.

Pie attracts tourists like flies. Throw in an obscure location and a high elevation, and it is even a more powerful magnet. I am definitely not immune.

Last week included a pie pilgrimage to Julian, California, elevation 4,235 feet. Julian is two blocks long, looks like a set for a western movie and is crawling with tourists. Every second establishment is selling pies, either whole or by the slice.

Julian doesn’t give tourists a choice of fillings. All the pies are apple. Pastry upper crust or crumb topping are the only variations.

We bought an entire pie to share with our extended family of eight. Smelling a Julian pie in the back seat for 63 miles and not sticking a thumb in it requires serious self control.

Undoubtedly, the mecca of high altitude pie consumption in the U.S.A. is Pie Town, New Mexico, which sits on the Continental Divide at about 8,000 feet. This teeny town is remote: it is three hours from Albuquerque in Catron County (7,000 square miles, 3,543 people). Call ahead to be sure the Pie Cafe will be open or come to the Pie Festival on the second Saturday in September.

Pie tourism also occurs at sea level, most notably in Key West, Florida, the southernmost city in America. I’m sure it is not a coincidence that “Key Lime” rhymes with “sublime”.

My own state of Wisconsin gets a slice of the pie vacation trade as well. The small, rural town of Osseo draws pie lovers from all over the Midwest. Head to the Norske Nook and you will get  plenty of choices…over 30 luscious pies are on the menu.

Perhaps I should retire and become a pie tourism travel guide. I could call my new business “Pie and a Suitcase”. Kindly let me know if you have a favorite pie destination.