(October 19, 1992)
   The gourds did not die today, though the amorphophalus
 (phalii?) were cut down.  Roughly 20 years ago I planted
 some gourds along a fence in the back yard.  Due probably
 to a lack of nutrients and sunshine, they gave a lackluster
 performance, eventually succumbing to frost on the 19th.  I
 wasn't all that unhappy to see them go.
  
   Two decades later, amongst orchids, cactus and an
 advancing wave of philodendron, I'm cultivating
 amorphophallus out front.  The small bulb I procured from
 an acquaintance a few years back had babies, the babies had
 babies, etc..  This is the first season they've not been in
 pots.  I plan to dig them up soon as these southeast Asian
 natives are unaccustomed to Midwest winters.
   Someday the bulbs will eventually attain blooming size. 
 Hopefully I can intervene prior to this event; something 
 will have to be done.  Amorphophallus translates to
 "shapeless penis", a reference to the gigantic bloom as it
 develops.  "Voodoo lily" is the common name of this unusual 
 arum, although "stinkweed" is most likely the most
 descriptive moniker.  
   The amorphophallus tribe is known as well for flower size 
 as flower  smell.  The species I have is mid-sized and will
 produce a big cone shaped bloom around 4 feet tall,
 smelling incidentally, like a very ripe, dead horse.  I
 hear tell the grand daddy of them all pushes up a bloom
 that must be 7 feet tall and a yard in diameter.  One can
 probably smell this thing miles away.
   I must consider my poor neighbors or they'll be breaking
 down my door with civil suits ( not to mention what they'd
 do to the garden).  I have a variety of options.  Apart
 from the fetid flower, the big umbrella like leaf is
 actually attractive, so I suppose I could emasculate the
 poor thing the moment its sex organ came thrusting into
 view one fine day.  
   Of course I'm a seed saver, and without a flower I'd be without  
 seeds.  Perhaps a more humane approach is to let the
 things develop in all their rude glory and then just prior
 to the opening of the bloom, I could quickly slip a clear
 plastic bag over it in an effort to mute the smell
 somewhat.
   One can imagine what a dry cleaning bag is going to look
 like slipped over a huge, shapeless penis, but in an era of
 safe sex, maybe I can pass it off as a kind of educational
 thing.  On the other hand, this might cause me even more
 trouble than just letting the stinkweeds stink.  I suppose
 I'll burn this bridge when I come to it. 
         
	There you have it.....
		Roger L. Sieloff