The Shed

The Shed
The Shed

Monday, May 30, 2016

New Vegetables for the 2016 Garden


"Hey Angus", said Farm Girl, "What's the date today?"

The gray bearded old parsnip fancier who most folks referred to as Uncle Mac but who Farm Girl occasionally calls Angus, primarily because it is his name, turned to Farm Girl.

"April 10th", he replied.

"Sunday, April 10th. Why do you ask?"

"Because it is getting a bit late in the season to advise our readers of newly introduced plants which they may wish to try this year. Don't you think we should pretend that we are serious gardeners, at least for awhile?"


"I suppose we must, although I doubt we'll fool anyone. I tell you what. I'll take Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Farm Girl, You okay with Territorial?"


"Mallory? Leatherface? How about Parks and Jungs?"

"Spot on!" and "Yo!" were the respective replies.

"Is Agnes here?", asked Uncle M.


The haystack shivered and what conceivably might have been a bleary eyed clone of Witch Hazel emerged from its depths. She sneezed, glanced around and retrieved a bottle of Jack Black from the hay.

She fumbled with the cap.

"Watcher want?" she mumbled.

"We are giving you Burpees by default."

"Already got 'em, and it's Leather-faces fault. Damned tuna casserole he made was off. Got the runs as well and Ah want to tell you-"

"ENOUGH!", barked Uncle Mac, "That falls into the category of too much information. What we want you to do is investigate the Burpees catalog or website and see what new offerings look interesting."

"Why'n hell didn't you jist say so, then," said the old harridan, and took a pull on the whiskey.

Some time later:

"Allrighty then!", said Uncle Mac, "Gather your beverages of choice and flock around. Let's see what new introductions deserve a spot in the dirt. Farm Girl?"

"Aye aye, Skip, I have Territorial Seed Co. and they have two new arrivals I think we should try, although we better step lively if we're going to plant the dwarf snow peas, or else plant them in fall." 


 "Territorial touts these little peas as incredibly early, with only a thirty day pod-set time from seeding and an extended picking season after that. The 40" vines grow quickly and set thick crops. What could possibly go wrong?"

"A visit from Mrs. Deer", suggested Uncle M, "How much?

"An ounce is $3.05 and purportedly contains at least 100 seeds. Whaddya think?"

"I think we give peas a chance", said Uncle Mac, to a chorus of groans. "What else?"

"Well", said Farm Girl, "I freely admit that I am going purely by name here but we need a large pumpkin, so let's try Territorials "Big Moose".


"It has a 110 day growing season, can top 125 lbs in weight and has a truly deep orange color. This can make a formidable jack-o-lantern or bragging pumpkin, or one hell of a lot of pies. A three gram envelope is $4.75. We can plant them where that damned ankylosaurus crapped 2 years ago, the soil should be perfect."

"I agree", said Uncle Mac, "Let's turn the moose loose."  

Farm Girl scowled.

"Are you going to favor us with a pithy little comment for each and every vegetable?" inquired Farm Girl.

"It's who I am", replied the venerable Uncle, "It's what I do."

"Gonna be a long afternoon." she observed, and reached for a Sam Adams.

Agnes cleared her throat, a decidedly unpleasant sound, much like a greasy drain slowly and reluctantly giving way to excessive water pressure.

"Hey did any wunna you bozo's check thuh date lately?"

She was met by more vacant stares than most abandoned condominium complexes can boast.*

"It's Memorial Day. May 30th. Way past time to advise our readers of thuh new veggie offerings for 2016."

"But...but", butted Uncle Mac, "It clearly references April 10th at the beginning of the post!"

"Which, Ah hasten to remark, merely shows how long this fine bit of less than creative writing has languished as a draft."

"We are bad gardeners." said Uncle Mac, staring gloomily at the assembled shed personnel.

There was silence for a few moments and the Leather Face shuffled uncomfortably and said: "Actually we are really good gardeners. What we suck at is blogging."

There were muffled grumbles of agreement from all concerned.

*OK! I know! Stairs! I couldn't help myself.