I have just come in from digging your classic American hole.
As we all know, the Crow cannot grow vegetables. The Crow flunked both zucchini and radishes. They are vegetables, therefore they will not grow in Crow's garden. Last year and the year before, I fooled some tomatoes into thinking they were flowers by virtue of sticking them in a giant flowerpot sunk to its waist in the flowerbed. Tomatoes never were too long on brains, so the ruse worked.
Vegetables are foodstuffs. On this matter, we must surely agree. One would not refer to a fir tree as a vegetable, nor to your grandmother's rhododendron in such a wise, and surely even nasturtiums (although edible) are never referred to as being of the vegetable persuasion. A gourd is not edible. No matter how long you cook them, gourds remain as inedible as the day you picked them off the vine.
I have tried to grow gourds before, but they had apparently been keeping company with some vegetables and had heard rumors about Crow's garden. Rather than go against the trend, they simply did in Rome as Romans do and refused...flatly...to grow.
Given this history, you would wonder why the Crow would spend $1.49 on a package of mixed gourd seeds. It's because of global warming.
You see, I have the idea that I might be able to convince these rather decorative plants ("plants," mind you...not vegetables) that they have sufficient warmth and nutrients to be quite comfortable until maturity with their feet in the hole with which I began this tale. Yes, I will have to add more dirt to the hole because at present, it qualifies more as a pit than a plot of land, but the mole has been rather busy of late and I have no dearth of dirt. I just wish the little bugger would sift the rocks out, but never mind. He's doing the best he can with limited equipment.
Thus, the next phase is to build a gourd tower. I wish to provide well for my tenants. But that's a project for another day. Presently, I am content to admire in all its hopeful promise the hole where once stood a ragamuffin, wretchedly unlovely rose.