Dreams of Dandelions and Chickens: You Just Never Know . . .

Overlooking the 50th Annual Ohio Gourd Show

There sat a beautifully ripened gourd -- the type you drill a hole so that a bird might take up residence. For only $4, I made the purchase for an older gentleman at the farmer's market. I was immediately smitten with the world of gourds. A day or two later, I was in search of a mystery to read at the local book store. Maggie Bruce's "The Gourdmother" caught my eye. By the time I finished reading the book, I was desperate to attend the annual gourd festival in Ohio. I wanted to make my pilgrimage and learn more about this art.

I happen to have a willing husband, so Dave and I took off in search of gourd adventure. And there were people from all over the Midwest who grew gourds, sold them, carved them, burned designs on them, embellished them, painted them and more. This was brand new territory for me. I was only familiar with the little gourds that I placed in my fall decorations and then tossed in the garbage as the season ended. There are gourds of all sizes and shapes -- from smaller than an egg to the size of a sitting golden retriever. The flesh molds and rots, then has to be cleaned. What is left is a hard wood-like material. It can be used to made all sorts of decorations, musical instruments, and the aforementioned bird house. They are especially known for use as purple martin houses.

It must have been 8 years ago when this adventure first began. It all started with me saying "yes" to the beautiful green gourd from a farmer's garden. I've been crafting and selling, teaching others and enjoying them all this time. You just never know what might happen when you say "yes" to something new.