Uncle Macs Garden Shed

New veggies for the 2017 vegetable garden

2017-04-23T11:29:00.000-07:00

UNCLE MAC

"Buck up, old fellow", said George Mallory as he entered the Shed and observed the gloomy countenance of it's absurdly ancient patriarch. "The Godless Atlanta Falcons beat our beloved Packers over two months ago. Nothing, not Millie's sorcery and not the most adept manipulation of the worm holes can alter that fact. It's time you looked ahead to the new season, the NFL draft and the great days to come."

"Time to look to the new gardening season as well, and figure out which new plant and seed releases we'll be researching for our readers."

"Readers?", said Uncle Mac, looking up, "Mrs. Fuddlebottom of Baton Rouge, dear lady that she is, remains in good health?"

"She does indeed", said Farm Girl as she ghosted up from the sheds cluttered interior. "And she has been recently joined by a Mr. Sam Marichal-Lescroate, who has read all the available posts and has written us three actual snail mail letters wondering when we'll be posting something new."

FARM GIRL

"Huh", said Uncle M, "and where does this gent hail from?"

"The return address is St. Cecilia's Home for the Criminally Insane in Hogue, Montana."

"Wonderful. I don't suppose there's any chance he's on staff?"

"That would be no." replied Farm Girl.

"Great", said the ancient gardener, "Homicidal maniacs read our blog. More than anyone could reasonably hope for."

Mallory and Farm Girl exchanged glances.

"Not to put to fine a point on it, old boy", Mallory said, "but for the most part homicidal maniacs write our blog as well."

Uncle Mac considered Jack the Ripper, and Leatherface, and the delicious but decidedly dangerous Lacey Delacroix. Mallory had a valid point.

"In any event," said the venerable Mac, "the NFL draft kicks off Thursday this week on the 27th. We, and by we I mean the Green Bay Packers and their many cheese headed fans, need a running back and a good running back very badly indeed. Starks is gone with the concussion problem and for reasons no one can comprehend Eddie Lacy is now wearing a Seattle uniform.

"SEATTLE, for the love of Gourd!"

"That's gonna come back to haunt us on opening day."

"But I thought the Packers needed defensive backs?" Mallory queried.

"Like a man dying of thirst needs a bottle of Poland Springs," Uncle M replied, "and I can't help but observe that you 'queried' rather than simply asked, or just allowed the question mark carry the ball by itself to stay with the gridiron motif."

"Have we changed our literary style?"

"I don't think we have a style, as such.", observed Farm Girl. "We barely have a blog."

Uncle Mac glared at her, but couldn't maintain it for long.

"But more than a secondary player or two we need a running back. Drafting in the 29th spot we have no chance at all to get Leonard Fournette from LSU. The man is an elemental force."

LEONARD FOURNETTE

"He had 3830 yards and 40 touchdowns at LSU in three years and 500 more yards receiving, although receiving is not his forte."

"Not Fournettes forte? I like the alliteration.", said Mallory.

"So did I, which is why I employed it." observed Uncle Mac.

"But look down the list of primo running backs, and we might get this guy Christian McCaffrey from Stanford."

"Not as big as Fornette but a little bit faster and a much better receiver. He can catch anything Rodgers can throw and what would that do for the Packer offense?"

"Lots!" said Farm Girl, feigning interest, "What are his credentials?

"Well, in 37 games for Stanford he rushed for 3922 yards and 21 touchdowns averaging 6.2 yards per carry, caught 99 passes for 1200 yards more with 10 TD's, scored on kick off and punt returns and completed 2 of 3 passes, both for touchdowns."

"Whoof!" said Farm Girl, "Do the Packers have a chance to draft him?"

"They do," said Uncle M, beaming, "It all depends on who does what in the 28 picks before the Packer's number comes up."

CHRISTIAN McCAFFREY

"Well let us hope for the best, Old Fellow," said Mallory, "but what does this have to with the new veggies we'll be growing this season, a review of which the title would seem to allude to, and which Mrs.Fuddlebottom and Mr.Marichal-Lescroate are no doubt anticipating with bated breath?"

"Not a damned thing." said Uncle Mac. "Perhaps next post."

"Here is a picture of a turnip for the over-eager tillers of the soil to enjoy while singing 'Tie a Yellow Turnip to the Old Ash Tree."

"People do such?" asked Mallory.

"So I've been told, never seen it myself." replied Uncle M.

A YELLOW TURNIP

New Vegetables for the 2016 Garden

2016-05-30T15:57:00.000-07:00

FARM GIRL

"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?"

UNCLE MAC

"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?"

"Absolutely!"

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

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

"Is Agnes here?", asked Uncle M.

AUNT AGNES

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."

LITTLE SNOW PEA WHITE,
SANS ANY NUMBER OF DWARFS

"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".

BIG MOOSE PUMPKIN

"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.

Taters in a Bucket Revisited

2015-09-06T09:48:00.001-07:00

LACEY DELACROIX

Lacey here! Although a long standing member of the Garden Shed Community I am usually not associated with growing, watering and weeding veggies. Generally it is my job to blow things up, burn things down and kill annoying people.

It keeps me busy, the supply of annoying people being nearly infinite.

But now and then I try to get my thumb a bit greener and so it was with my potatoes in a bucket experiment. You may recall that earlier in the year I placed a half a red potato in three different buckets of garden soil and compost mix, at about the halfway point of the buckets depth.

Then I simply watered the plants that popped up and let nature take over.

Now it is labor day weekend. Let us see what time has wrought.

A BIT BEDRAGGLED

Well alrighty then! The plant is beginning to shut down and appears rather tired, limp and weary, much like Bill Clinton post intern.

Let's just dump it out on the ground, shall we?

BY THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS, SOMETHING SPUD-LIKE THIS WAY COMES

Schweet! Not entirely in vain I see. In fact...

"Hey Jack! Put your hand next to the spud for comparisons sake, there's a lad."


I'VE SEEN WORSE

Respectable 'taters, but not too many as this shot shows. Still, that's ample portions of mashed or boiled potatoes for two people. Plus, it is clean, easy and fun to grow this way, and kids will enjoy the process immensely while catching the gardening bug in the process.


WELL, OK

I'll let the next bucket full go until the plant is completely dry and dessicated, and the third until just before first frost, and see if this makes any difference (perhaps the smaller spuds will develop more completely) and if it does, I'll let you know!

Thank you for visiting uncle Mac's Garden Shed!

One Big Tomato

2015-08-29T13:15:00.001-07:00

The door which leads from the vegetable garden to the shed swung open, although it was really difficult to tell. The man who filled the opening was nearly as big as the door at 6' 6" and about 300 pounds.

But big as Leatherface is the object in his hand still looked freakishly large. It was round and red and to everyone's surprise it was not a severed head.

It was in fact a product of Burpee Seed plant development program and went by the moniker of "Steakhouse Tomato". You may read about it HERE, and their promotional picture looks like this.

Ours is not as large or as "perfect" but as you can see below, it fills the big mans giant paw or a full sized paper plate.

BURSTING WITH JUICY FLAVOR

OUR FIRST STEAKHOUSE TOMATO

How does it taste?

Just the way you want a beefsteak tomato to taste. Juicy, slightly tart and bursting with tomato flavor, the flavor you forget about after a winter of supermarket tomatoes.

This is a keeper, and about to become a garden favorite year after year.

Another cash prize contest!

2015-08-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

IT'S YOUR OLD PAL JACK

Indeed it is, Jack's back and this time he's handing out dollars instead of ripping out guts, a mere 127 years after sweet Mary Jane Kelly endured what was definitely not elective surgery.

Where does the time go?

And what, constant reader, must you do to garner the first prize of $20.00, or the second prize of $10.00 or in the unlikely event that we have three contestants, the embarrassingly niggardly third prize; a whopping $5.00?

Carve some Lady of the Evening a new belly button?

Nothing so gauche.

First, you must have a PayPal account so that we can send your prize to you, it's the only way we do it.

As for the particulars of the contest, they are very simple. All you need do is knit a prize winning nudibranch, crochet a top of the line Chromodoris or if you are of stout pioneering stock, purl a Phidiana.

Yes, we want you to crochet a sea slug.

"Yuck", says you, "that will make my needles all slimy!"

Ho ho. Our readers, you have to love them.

No, dear soul, use yarn and knit us a replica of a sea slug, perhaps a colorful one like what is probably Chromodoris willani, shown below.


CALL ME WILLY

Or you might wish to run with Chromodoris Magnifa, although you will be running rather slowly, nudibranchs are not known for blinding speed.

C. MAGNIFA

And here is another colorful challenge, Chromodoris kuiteri.


C. KUITERI

You will need to tell us what species you are basing your work upon so be to check out "http://www.seaslugforum.net/" where you can find hundreds of pictures under the "species list", or to "Feeling Sluggish" or to "The Slug Site". This will give you more than enough examples and photos to work from.

Finished pieces should be at least 5" long so as to show up well in the picture you will be emailing to the judges.

Email pictures to: BobMacNJ5@aol.com with "Slugs" in message bar.

So we know you are showing us your work and not a pic from the internet include, in the picture along with the knit slug, one of the following.

A 12 oz. can of beer or soft drink.

A local newspaper showing the date

A fresh root crop vegetable, a carrot, beet, rutabaga or parsnip for example.

Your cat.

But wait, you say, no one knits these things! How wrong you are! Here is just one example:


HOW ABOUT THAT?

More examples can be found simply by typing "Knit Sea Slugs" into your search engine.

So hop to it! Entries received after midnight August 30 will not be considered unless a hefty bribe is enclosed.

You may enter up to three pieces but you can only win one prize.

Judging should take but a few days, prizes sent out almost immediately.

If you feel these directions require clarification, use the comments section to communicate your concerns.

Let's hear those needles clacking!

***************************************

Only a few hours have passed and we have our first slug!

And here it is! Now what have you brought to the table?


C. Magnifa

FARM GIRL'S CORNER, HIDDEN TREASURES

2015-08-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

FARM GIRL

Hi, it's Farm Girl and welcome to Farm Girl's Corner.

It hasn't been too lively around the shed lately, the weather has been peculiar to say the least with a frigid winter, a late and very cold spring and what has thus far been a rather cool summer. Everything has been late to develop with the possible exception of the romance between Millie Quackenbush (The Last Sorceress) and George Mallory (Dead Mountain Climber).

Uncle Mac has been more than a bit jealous, having himself dallied awhile with Millie, the scrofulous old goat. It's a good thing he has me to fall back on, or as is most often the case, forward on.

One thing that we had in spectacular overabundance were Colorado potato bugs. We had, not to put to fine a point on it, potato bugs up the gagootz.

Aunt Agnes reported this very condition, as a matter of fact but no one had the slightest inclination to verify her story, and thus it must remain in the realm of apocrypha.

But I digress. The point is that we gave up on our potatoes. We paid them no attention and neither weeded nor watered them. The beds became choked with weeds and grasses up to six feet tall.

But then I thought I would steal a march on fall clean up and so, rounding up Mallory and Agnes we descended on the beds with implements of grass destruction.

We found yellowed stalks and attached to those stalks, potatoes. Some of quite respectable proportions as the somewhat poorly focused photo may indicate. The Bud can is merely there as a size comparison artifact.


ONE PLANTS WORTH OF SPUDS

We dug up the rest of the bed and found quite a pleasant number of similar potatoes, and Yukon Gold and Blue Adirondack as well.

So the point is NOT that one should neglect ones potato crop to ensure a good crop, but rather that you should always check the garden carefully for unknown or well hidden surprises.

There is really nothing like ones own fresh potatoes.

And thank you for visiting Farm Girl's Corner!

Agnes checks her onions

2015-05-31T06:36:00.001-07:00

AGGIES BIG ONION

It seems like Agnes has succeeded. She has managed to grow a whopper of an onion plant, the largest in the picture topping thirty nine inches and still growing. (Background on this sordid tale may be uncovered HERE)

What Agnes has failed to realize is that there is little or no onion attached to that truly magnificent stalk. These, you see, are replanted onions which have overwintered as one onion. Agnes divided the onion into the three plants that it was developing into earlier this spring and planted them individually.

However, second year onions are devoting their energy to producing seeds, primarily, and the pods that look quite a bit like Greek orthodox church domes are where the seeds will develop. She will have quite a few Walla Walla seeds from just these plants, if she wishes to save them.

If the Agster also wants bulky onions she needs to water lavishly, fertilize with 10-10-10 fertilizer along with an additive of calcium, boron and magnesium and hope for the best. Otherwise she will merely get something that looks like a leek on the bottom of that over-large stem.

It would be a really good idea if she weeded a bit, too.

Agnes shares some onion lore

2015-05-10T13:21:00.001-07:00


ONIONS ARE MANY SPLENDORED THINGS

"Howdy!"

"Agnes here and ah am fixin' to share with you a few tricks about onion growin' that ah learnt back when ah was a lil' gal in Texas."

"And the Mexicans still owned the state." muttered someone, probably Leatherface.

"Whut?" said Agnes, eyeing the big man with suspicion, if not outright enmity. "Well never mind that fer now."

"Anyway we all get a little sloppy late in the gardenin' season and might not pick every single vegetable that we might orta be pickin'. Why jist this mornin' ah found a big overwintered onion right there where the termaters are scheduled to be planted!"


OVERWINTERED ONION

"Whut do yew suppose ah did?"

"Had a shot of Jack Black?" ventured Farm Girl

"Well o' course ah did. It were a might frosty this mornin' if you recall.* But then ah dug that bad boy right up, savin' as many roots as ah could."

LOOKIT THEM ROOTS!

"Then I peeled away the yeller outer skin and the inner onion parts which was squishy and wound up with three small onions with their respective root systems. there's a peek at them below."

HERE'S THE PEEK

"Then ah split the plant into the three plants it were a' growin' into anyways..."

JIST YEW TAKE A LOOK

"Then ah planted them and jist look at them 3 big plants. What a jump on the season!"

THE AFOREMENTIONED 3 BIG PLANTS

There was silence for a moment and then Uncle Mac cleared his throat, a distinctly unpleasant sound.

"Agnes, did you actually do this with your overwintered onions when you lived in Texas?"

"Well no, generally we jist chopped 'em up and used them in stews and soups and omelets and sech."

"What is it you expect to get from these three plants?"

"Why, onions as big as pumpkins whatcher think?"

"Because what you are going to get is big green stalks, onions that look like leeks and a lot of onion seeds. You are misleading our readers..."

"Read-ER!" corrected Millie Quackenbush from the wings

"Read-er", Uncle Mac acknowledged, "and thereby contributing to the decline of this once much respected gardening blog. Now, had you been instructing our audience as to how to collect and save onion seeds this effort might have had some merit."

"Well ah'll just change it around a bit, and ah reckon it will do
right enough."

"Atta girl!" said Uncle Mac and reached for the brandy.

*In fact it was 72 f at dawn.

Aunt Agnes parts with a double sawbuck

2015-04-19T16:30:00.000-07:00


AUNT AGNES

"Howdy! Agnes Dalrymple here and Ah'm fixin' to announce a new Uncle Mac's Garden Shed CASH contest!"

"Yup that's right! They is few and far between but this here is one of them. Here is how it works."

"Ah'm goin' out in the garden right now and start up a bed of some sort of vegetables. Ah am not gonna tell you whut kind nor give yew a clue but ever Wednesday and Sunday, if it t'ain't rainin' Ah will take another picture and post it for y'all."

"Sooner 'er later somebody will recognize the veggie and put the correct answer under comments along with the address to use fer the Paypal payment."

"That there payment will be one double sawbuck, Andy Jackson or $20.00 US."

"Only one guess per person for each picture posted, mind ye!"

"That ought'n to be clear enough."

"Here Ah go."

And there Agnes went, leaving a bemused crew of gardeners in her wake.

Some time later...

"Ah'm back! An' here's a picture of the bed. Don't tell ye much, does it? Yew'll just have to check ever Wednesday and Sunday until somebody figgers it out."

"Good luck!"


AGGIE'S MYSTERY BED

"Now that's mighty strange", said Uncle Mac, "Agnes parting with money voluntarily."

"Sure is.", said Farm Girl, "But you know what is stranger, and I never got around to asking? Remember about this time back in 2012 I took a trip to Minnesota for a few weeks?"

(Those who don't remember can find the sordid tale right here.)

"Well, when I got back, here was this Agnes person who I had never met, and not only had she made herself at home; she had actually written a 'Farm Girls Corner'!"

"What I'd like to know is who's Aunt is she, and how the hell did she wind up being part of our Merry Band?"

You might have heard a pin drop. Nobody dropped one but the silence was so profound that the potential for hearing dropped pins was definitely there.

Finally Uncle Mac spoke.

"Is Agnes still on a liquor store run?", he inquired.

There were nods and and mumbled sounds of assent.

"Then lock the doors, boys and girls, it's time for a chat."

On replantery of garlic

2015-04-12T16:43:00.001-07:00

SECOND YEAR GARLIC

A CLOSER LOOK

"Where has Vida G been all day?", queried Uncle Mac, "haven't seen hide nor hair since breakfast."

"Oh she's working in the garden. Said she found some garlic and was going to replant it." said Farm Girl.

"Yikes! Don't tell me she's digging up the fall garlic crop? That will pretty much put 'paid' to 2015 as far as that allium goes!"

"Well that's allium you can expect from a neophyte." Farm Girl said, "But no. As a matter of fact she is digging up the left over 2014 crop that we did not harvest, splitting the cloves and replanting them."

SECOND YEAR GARLIC SPLIT TO

REPLANT

"Did no one tell her that the yield is apt to be less than spectacular?" said Uncle M.

"Yes but you know Vida. And anyway why curb her enthusiasm? There's plenty of room and we can use the little cloves early on. Never enough garlic on hand, you know."


BEST OF LUCK IN YOUR NEW

LOCATION

"How many did she plant? Couple of dozen?"

"No, hundreds." said Farm Girl, she kind of got in a fugue state."

"Hundreds?", said a startled Uncle Mac, "Wow!"

SEVERAL BEDS FULL

Turning in the direction of the open garden side door Uncle Mac bellowed, "It's Miller time, Vida, give the garlic a rest!"

"Whew!", said Vida G, as she burst through the door, "It was time to knock off anyway. I really worked up a sweat out there, and I think I'm learning my gardening ropes."

"Nice." said Farm Girl, in a dangerous tone.

"Urk!" said Uncle Mac

VIDA, ROPE-WISE AND SWEATY

We will, of course, let you know how Vidas experiment progresses.

New Vegetable Varieties for 2015

2015-04-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

YES, I'M FARM GIRL

Hi, Farm Girl here! You know me, I help Uncle Mac around the garden and shed, planting and weeding and researching sound gardening practices. Today we researched fertilization techniques. The basket trick in particular was kinda fun, if a bit challenging from an athletic standpoint.

Anyway, I'm going to tell you about some of the new vegetable varieties that became available for this, the 2015 season and which we will be trying here in the Shed garden.


SUNSTRIPE HYBRID ZUCCHINI FROM PARKS

I have high hopes for this one, I'm sure that it is no different than most zucchini or summer squash from a flavor standpoint, but eye appeal is important as well and this vegetable certainly has that. Not only does it look good, but it is ready to pick just 50 days from sowing. This is commendably quick.

Further, This zucchinoid is touted as being a 'long saver' for a summer squash. I'm not really certain what that translates to, but rest assured, we will be reporting what we learn about this colorful cultivar.

Want to try it out? Here is a link to help you out.


BEAVER DAM PEPPER FROM JUNGS

Bulky and long at 9" Jungs new Beaver Dam pepper provides gentle warmth for those who like a little chemical heat with their peppers, but who do not want to handle their foodstuffs with oven mitts, even while picking them.

The plants are compact, just 18 inches tall on average but produce a surprising volume of uniform fruit which ripen from mild green to glossy, dark red. Maturity requires a full 85 days.

You can find out more, or place an order here: Beaver Dam Pepper


BURPEE'S SUMMER CUPCAKE SQUASH

This interesting little 4" to 5" summer squash purports to have a certain sweet but savory flavor which lends itself to stuffing, as well as more conventional uses.

Just 52 days from sowing to serving these compact plants could be a pleasant mid summer surprise. We intend to let them climb the north side of the garden fence, with a 6' maximum height this can work out well.

You can find out much more about this intriguing little squash right here: Burpees Summer Cupcake Squash

As always, I'll keep you up to speed on how these new items are faring in our test beds.

Thanks for visiting Farm Girls Corner!

Farm Girl's Corner: Walla-Walla Onions

2015-01-28T16:58:00.003-08:00

FARM GIRL

Hi! I'm Farm Girl and welcome to Farm Girls Corner. I help Uncle Mac around the garden and shed and hayloft and so forth. I help weed his corn and water his tomatoes; I'll often yank his carrot when the need is urgent.

But today I'm going to discuss a favorite onion which we like to grow here. It is called the Walla-Walla onion, or sometimes the Walla-Walla sweet onion. This large, flattened and generally perfectly rounded alium is perfectly designed by nature for sandwich and burger slicing.

Its mild and generally sweet flavor make it ideal for those who love onion taste but not too much heat. Walla-Wallas make wonderful onion rings and delightful soup. It is a sizeable onion and delivers quite a bit of crop for a smallish garden space.

Walla Walla onions are nothing new. The story is that the were brought to Washington State's Walla Walla Valley by a French soldier who acquired the seeds of a small but sweet onion while on the island of Corsica. Arriving in the valley around 1900 selective breeding by the soldier, one Piere Pieri. He along with his family and neighbors brought this fine onion to it's full potential via selective breeding.

It is, at the time of this writing the state vegetable of Washington State. The entire Alium genus is no doubt exceedingly proud of this honor.

Large examples of these onions may reach 6” in diameter or though most will be between 4” and 6”. These are “long day” onions which can also thrive in the intermediate growing zone. This means that anywhere from the middle USA to southern Canada are reasonable locations for your Walla-Walla beds.

The plants take about 90 days to mature and are available from many, many gardener's supply houses. Dixondale farms is one such reliable source: http://www.dixondalefarms.com/product/walla_walla/long_day_onions

There are many others.

We prefer starting our beds from transferred plants rather than from sets or by direct seeding but all three methods can be successful. Walla-Walla plants are generally hardy, trouble free growers.

Deep soil laced with lots of compost, full sunlight, abundant water and weeding are the recipe for success with this simple root crop.

If there is one problem with this onion it is that its maximum storage life is about 30 days, not long compared to true long-keepers, so they must be used quickly or perhaps made into soups or other dishes which can be frozen.

In any event if you have never tried this onion we suggest you give it a sunny corner in your garden and prepare for a sweet surprise.

Thank you for visiting Farm Girl's Corner.

Stop back soon!

Agnes to the Rescue!

2014-12-10T19:35:00.000-08:00

AGNES

Uncle Mac studied Aunt Agnes morosely from the comfort of his old and battered armchair. Farm Girl, equally glum studied the old hillbilly from the same article of furniture. It was a snug but comfortable fit.

In other circumstances, they would have been quite content.

"Guernsey!" said Agnes.

Agnes sat at one end of the scarred hand built picnic table, a yellow legal pad on the table, and a pencil in one hand. A Lone Star beer occupied the other.

She started to write the word, frowned, and then scratched out what she had written.

"Gosh dern it, already got thet one."

She gnawed the eraser end of the pencil with one precariously mounted tooth.

"What air the names of some cows?" she addressed to no one in particular."

George Mallory, who had been standing by the wood stove sipping a cup of tea, cleared his throat.

"Agnes, old girl, do you mean the names of breeds of cattle, or of individuals, like Bossy or Daisy?"

"Breeds." replied Agnes, "Like, er..."

Here, she consulted her list.

"Guernsey."

She looked up, hopefully.

"A clue, esteemed Auntie! What State are you in?"

"Uncommon sobriety", was the reply. "Ah aim to fix thet right quick like."

She made half the Lone Star disappear.

"No, no dear lady you misconstrue. Let's try; Where are we all at this precise moment?"

"Right here in the danged shed! What kind of clue air thet?"

"Insufficient, apparently. Think of location in terms of states names. You came from Texas as a young girl..."

"During the Roosevelt administration", whispered Farm Girl

"...but now you find yourself in?", Mallory concluded.

"NEW JERSEY!" said Agnes.

"New! New? Gnu! Thar we go! Gnus!"

She touched pencil to paper but then paused.

"Gnus ain't cows!" she stated firmly, sure of herself.

"But what comes after New?", persisted Mallory, who never faltered when the odds were stacked against him.

"Lions, mostly. Crocodiles too Ah reckon."

"Think states names Agnes!"

"New...? Jersey? Jersey! Yas! Jersey cows!"

"Now thet wasn't so hard!"

"Easy for you to say." said Farm Girl. "It gave me a headache."

"I'll rub it for you." said the ever helpful Uncle M.

"Texas Longhorn!" chirped Aggie, "Holstein!"

The bovine dam had given way.

"That is not my head!" said Farm Girl, not sounding especially upset.

Vida G had been eavesdropping from one of the lofts.

"This is my fault." she said

"Don't blame yourself, Vida, the old bastid rubs it every chance he gets." said Farm Girl.

Vida ignored her.

"Agnes and I had been discussing how the Garden Shed blog is dying on the vine. It was her considered opinion that as the official roving reporter of all things sheddian it was my job to jump start the rejuvenating process on behalf of us all."

"Black Angus!" whooped Aggie

"I agreed", said Vida, "but I told her I just could not seem to get started and that I needed some sort of catalyst. Agnes said she'd see what she could do."

"BEEFALO!" shouted the Pride of Texas, and drained her Lone Star.

TWO BEEFALO

Worse than squash bugs

2014-07-28T16:36:00.002-07:00

Sunday morning was remarkably peaceful and quiet around the shed. Mallory and the Ripper had chartered a boat out of Belmar Beach and were presumably reeling in bluefish by the barrel even as Leatherface readied the kitchen to prepare a rare fish dinner. Vida G was at the gym, Milly in her own cottage.

Delacroix had taken a cross-dimensional wormhole shift to a place and time where the most powerful chemical explosives possible to create could be acquired if one had the proper skills. Farm Girl and Uncle Mac, flushed and somewhat winded from an epic bout of tomato-staking were enjoying coffee at the battered picnic table just inside the main door of the shed.

Agnes had said something about weeding.

A loud “WHUMP” announced the activation of one of the many wormholes which occupied a sort of non-space and un-time in and around the shed.

“Lacy, back so soon?” speculated Uncle Mac.

Farm Girl shrugged and was about to speak when the garden side door burst open and a ragged scarecrow of what presumably was a woman burst through it. She held a weeder in one hand, a can of Lone Star in the other. The dog-end of a rum crook protruded from her lips.

“Mrrphmple fud!” she mumbled, clarity of speech suffering equally from the presence of the dog-end and an absence of teeth. Hopping in her excitement she gesticulated towards the garden with the weeder.

“Furmimphle futter!” she amplified and bolted through the doorway to Millie's orchard.

“Did you catch that?” said Uncle M.

“That last bit sounded like 'My ankles sore' but I can't swear to it.” Didn't make the first part out at all.”

“Agnes was moving right sprightly for an old gal with a bad wheel”, said Uncle Mac, turning from the window, “and she cleared Millie's stone wall like an Olympic hurdler. Never spilled a drop, either.”

Farm Girl cracked the garden side portal and peered through it.

“Ahah! she said.

“Ahah what?”

“Not 'ankles sore' “ said FG, “ankylosaur! There seems to be an ankylosaurus in the turnip patch.”

“Bloody hell. What's it doing?”

“Eating turnips.”

“Oh for the luvva Pete, if it isn't one damned thing, its another. And just when we got rid of the potato beetles.” said Uncle Mac, reaching for the 12 gauge.

A bad start in the garden

2014-05-07T10:16:00.002-07:00

Farm Girl oozed charmingly through the Shed’s garden side doorway. She tugged off her earth stained gloves and tossed them in the corner. She approached the lopsided picnic table where Uncle Mac was using his lap top to study potential first round draft picks for the Green Bay packers in the upcoming NFL draft.

He noticed Farm Girls angst.

“What?”

“The spinach is stuck.” She said.

“Stuck?” said Unc

“The beets becalmed, the chard is checked, the kale, comatose, the radishes reluctant and as for the turnips!”

“What about the turnips?”

“Torpid!” said Farm Girl.

“Say it ain’t so!”

“It ain’t so”, said Vida G, entering through the same doorway which FG had used. “But I’m afraid it is all true. The veggies are kaput.”

She was looking unusually sweet, clad in cute sandals, spray on jeans and a lightweight pink sweatshirt captioned “Born to Jiggle.”

“Is kaput a real word?” asked Uncle M.

“Yeah kinda”, said Vida, “Heepy will be along directly to correct the spelling. What’s with the lethargic legumes and the enervated eggplant?”

“Neither of which are planted yet.” observed Farm Girl.

“I know. I just like illiteration.”

“Alliteration.” said Uncle Mac.

“Not when Vida tries it.” said Farm Girl.

“Hey!”

“Calm yourselves ladies,” said Uncle Mac, “all will be well. It is going to rain gently overnight and be sunny and 70° for at least the next three days. That will revive the dormant dill and all the rest. You’ll see.”

“But”, he waggled an admonitory and somewhat crooked finger, “it will also perk up the weeds. So I’ll need you two plus the old battleaxe…”

“I resemble that!” croaked the haystack.

“…and get Mallory and the Ripper to help. You’ll be done in no time.”

“And what do you plan on doing while all this weeding is going on?” asked Vida.

“With any luck, Milly.” Said Uncle M

Farm Girl crossed her arms over her ample bosom.

“You are, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the vilest, most degenerate old sod I have ever…” her voice trailed off.

“had the misfortune to meet.” finished Vida.

“Whut they said.” added the haystack.

Mallory does something radish

2014-04-08T17:13:00.000-07:00

"What ho! What ho!" said Mallory as he burst in through the Shed's orchard side doorway, "I say, what ho!"

"Yes, indeed you did", said Farm Girl, who was taking seeds from the large storage jars and putting them into envelopes to send to their various and far flung gardening friends. "loudly, and several times more than absolutely necessary given the time of day and the state of Mac's hangover."

"What has you wound up?"

"And who were you calling 'ho'?" said Vida, looking up from her lap top.

"No, no, dear lady you have me wrong", said Mallory, plucking an axe handle from a corner, "permit me to demonstrate. Imagine, if you will, that this axe handle is an umbrella."

He brandished it about.

"Ah imagine yew getting mighty damned wet." said an animated scarecrow who had wandered over from a haystack deep in the inner recesses of the shed.

"Ah, Agnes old dear have a listen; I value your opinion highly you know." Mallory placed a smart phone on the table, activated a key.

"You're the one", said Uncle Mac, who was studying a sports pundits' article on which players in his - the pundits' - view the Packers should go after in the upcoming NFL draft.

The unmistakable notes of "Get me to the church on time" issued from the tiny speakers of the smart phone. Mallory, who had a decent voice for a 128 year old mountain climber burst into song and, to the general astonishment of all, accompanied song with dance.

"I love a radish in the springtime!
I love a radish in the fall!
I take my car and park it,
There at the farmer's market,
And buy out every radish stall!

If there’s kohlrabi, I’ll buy a few
A tasty turnip I will not eschew,
But I love a radish when the sun’s up,
And even more when it begins to set,
But at the stroke of midnight
There’s nothing else I will bite
Cept’ for all the radish I can get.

And as for parsnips, they make me larf;
And salsify? My gosh I just might barf!
But I love a radish on my waffles,
As filling in my chocolate radish cake,
Tho’ once, while in Calcutta,
I wolfed down radish butta,
and I never will forget the belly-ache!"

The routine apparently over, Mallory turned to his audience who regarded him in stunned silence.

At length, Uncle M cleared his throat.

"Why, George?" he asked.

"Ah! Yes! Why indeed; a deucedly astute question."

Mallory was beaming.

"All righty then", said Vida, "do you have a deucedly astute answer?

"It's one of the songs we, and by 'we' I mean all of us Shed Folk plus those not present, will be performing when we treat the townsfolk to a vegetized parody version of My fair Lady during West Milford's annual 'Talent Week'."

"Mallory?" said Uncle Mac.

"Yes old chap?"

"Have you, perhaps, had a stroke?"

"Not at all! A public relations coup! Our standing in the community has been a bit tarnished ever since that distressing episode involving Leatherface and the day care center. Our participation should give it a bit of a buff up."

"And the proceeds go to widows and orphans!"

"Widows?" said Mac.

"Orphans?" Farm Girl said, barely getting the word out.

"It's the sort of thing we should do more orphan!" said Aunt Agnes.

This may, if you are not on your best behavior, be continued.

Farm Girls Corner

2014-03-24T20:27:00.000-07:00

"Hi, I'm Farm Girl and welcome to Farm Girl's Corner. Today, I'm going to..."

"Wow! When was the last time we had a Farm Girl's Corner!" said Uncle Mac from the corner by the potbellied stove, "I remember the last time I had Farm Girl cornered."

He did a Groucho Marx with his eyebrows.

"It was great! But when did we start acting like a serious gardening blog again is what I really mean."

"We are a serious gardening blog, a moribund serious gardening blog, but a serious gardening blog none the less. It's time we star..."

"Moribund?" said Uncle Mac.

"Moribund. It means..."

"I know what it means." said Unc, "are we that bad?"

"Oh come on we've been on life support for a year or so. It's time we got back in gear, in my view."

"Carry on, my daughter." said Mac.

"If I were your daughter, you'd be in jail, you whiskery old varmint. However..."

"Hi, I'm Farm Girl and welcome to Farm Girl's Corner. Today, I'm going to talk about a few new crops we are going to try this season. Last year as you may but probably do not recall was a very bad growing season here at the Shed. This year, we are trying only three new crops; a tomato, a squash, and an oniony type thingy."

"Let's not go all technical on our reader, FG, you know how confused she gets. 'oniony type thingy' might nudge her into befuddlement."

"Stay with me here Angus you might learn something."

"First we are trying Burpee's 'Steakhouse' tomato. It is a hybrid, but it is so darn huge we can't help but want see what they are on to. It is reputed to go to three pounds and yet have a superb flavor. We will keep you informed on that of course."

"Then from Gurney we have the 'Kappa' hybrid cooking onion, which is an onion-shallot hybrid with the best qualities of both. Which is why I like to call it an oniony type thingy."

"Also from Gurney's we'll be trying a huge golden butternut squash called 'Argonaut', a beautiful looking fruit with deep golden external tones, running to 30 pounds and reputed to be delicious. We'll be the judge of that but we are hoping advance billing is correct."

"Er, farm Girl?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you think we should be showing folks pictures of these veggies which we will be trying out?"

"Why yes I do Uncle Mac, but it seems Blogger does not agree. People can follow the links to see a picture and in fact find out about the veggies in question, while we work on the picture problem."

"I see", said Mac, "also, lots of folks look us up just to catch a peek at your bu...pretty face. We don't wish to disappoint them, do we."

"Of course not, they can simply scroll down a few posts to see all the pretty face they want. Particularly if they go to the post on steatopygia. That should satisfy the most dedicated pretty face man."

"Well. We will need to fix this picture problem."

"Indeed we will"

****************

Gratuitous link to Farm Girls pretty face:

Things get Chilly for Millie

2014-03-24T10:10:00.000-07:00

"Brrrrr!" said Uncle Mac, entering the garden-side door and slamming it behind him, "15° on March 24th? In New Jersey? I don't think so. How can we plant 'taties when we can't chip the ground with an axe?"

"15°", said Lacey Delacroix, eyes riveted to the 336th chapter of the prologue of "Violets in Bloom", "would those be Celsius, Kelvin, or Fahrenheit? Because it does make a difference, you know".

"Too damned cold for this time of year, is all I know. Why, when I was a tot we didn't have such things as temperature scales. Either there was no ice on the pond, and it was above freezing or there was ice on the pond and it was below. Colder than that and it was 'cold enough to freeze the balls off a bronze bishop'; colder still and it was 'colder than a wi...' "

The orchard side door edged open and a smallish but very attractive silver haired woman appeared, struggling unaccountably with a cooler. Mallory leaped to her assistance.

"Millie!" said Lacey, "A cooler? In this weather?"

"It's to keep the waffle batter from freezing" replied their violet eyed guest, "waffles loose some of their magic when the batter freezes."

"I'll be right back", said Uncle Mac to a disinterested Shed crew as he removed his gloves and stepped back outside.

"I heard waffles" said Farm Girl, ghosting up from out of nowhere, "Coffee, Mill?"

Millie nodded and commenced to unpack the cooler.

The Ripper, Agnes, Leatherface and Vida G floated in from various interior regions of the shed, drawn to the scent of Millie's waffle batter like Serengeti hyenas to a long dead wildebeest.

"There go my hips again." said a sleepy Vida.

"Still", muttered Farm Girl, none too subtly.

"Ahah!" said Uncle Mac, reappearing via the garden gate. He was holding his hands aloft, like a neurosurgeon freshly scrubbed, "Millicent my sweet! Would you join me in the ammo locker for a moment? I've a few words for your private ear!"

Millie shrugged and the two disappeared into the nearby storeroom.

Whispered phrases punctuated by chuckles, giggles and the rustling of clothing emerged, followed in rapid succession by a bloodcurdling feminine shriek, and a sharp report, much like that which a small bore revolver might produce only somehow, meatier.

Millie and Uncle emerged momentarily, both red faced; Millie with outraged indignation and Uncle with a crimson hand print painted across his right cheek.

"It's true!" observed the Shed's patriarch holding one frosty hand proudly aloft. "It really is colder than a witches tit out there!"

As good a place as any to close on what was after all, a distressing and completely unnecessary scene.

*********************************************

"Erm. Mr. Blog writing person?"

"Yes?"

"Where are the pictures? Nobody actually reads this mess, we just come here for the pictures."

"No more pictures! Blogger won't let me post 'em, the posting widget does not work and there seems to be no way to contact anyone about it."

"This is distressing."

"Tell me about it."

The New in Review

2013-12-08T18:03:00.000-08:00

"Farm Girl", said Uncle Mac, "Do you remember back at the end of March we let the readers know about the new varieties of veggies we were going to try out for 2013? Did we ever update them with the outcome?"

"Yes, I remember, and no, I don't believe we did. Wasn't really a lot to tell them, if you think about it."

FARM GIRL

"I don't recall seeing those round red turnips we were looking forward to. What happened there?"

"Hard to say", Farm Girl said. "They sprouted perfectly in spring, the greens grew nicely - if you remember we had a mess of them one night, but the turnips just never developed, not even to the size of small marbles. We tried again in fall in this time the leaves wilted away half grown."

"I don't know what happened."

"Bugs?" queried Uncle M.

"Nope."

"Bunnies?"

"Uh uh."

"Bugs Bunny?"

"You really are an old fool." Observed Farm Girl, not without reason. "It has been 10 years since we did a soil test. I'm thinking it can't hurt."

"Which is exactly what I said when I wanted to try..."

"Let's not go into that!"

"Which is exactly what you said!"

"Arrggh!" said Farm Girl.

After a pause, Uncle Mac continued.

"Well then. How about the ingegnoli gigante tomatoes? I remember a cucumber-tomato-onion-black olive salad that was downright edible!"

"Edible. Nice of you to say. Yes, the iggies were fat, round, red and delicious and we saved seeds. But the crop was off. All greens and no tomatoes."

"Termaters!" said Aunt Agnes.

"Pipe down!" said everyone present.

"Collards?" asked Mac.

"No" replied FG, " we seeded them 3 times, and none made it to over 6 inches, and as you know, six inches simply does not satisfy. We have always planted "Champion Collards" in the past and that is what we will do in the future. These "Georgia Southern" collards can stay in Georgia, for all of me."

"Agreed", said Uncle M, "Now, we also tried golden chard, and I remember having lots of that, and it was very good. I expect that's a keeper?"

"Absolutely", said Farm Girl, "not only tasty but a vigorous grower and extra healthful, even for chard. We have seed stock overwintering."

"Er", said Mac, "I don't recall seeing parsnips?"

Which is as good a place to end this post as any, before things get ugly.

Some Holiday Visitors, and a Little Gratuitous Skin.

2013-12-02T15:09:00.002-08:00

"Did you see the morning mail?" Vida asked, scaling a square cream-colored envelope across the table to Uncle Mac. "It's from Lacey."

"Lacey?" said Uncle Mac, surprised. "Where is she that she has to use regular mail?"

He checked the return address but there was none. The address however, caught his attention.

"For Uncle M, unless he's snockered, in which case give to Farm Girl."

"What sort of address is that? And there are holes in this envelope too. How did this arrive, anyway?"

"Owl post." Vida said.

"Oh shit." said Uncle Mac, "She's looking for the primary Potter/Hogwarts timeline. She should at least have taken Millie with her. Lacey doesn't cope with magic well; too much faith in firepower."

"She did take Millie with her." Vida said, "In full sorceress mode too"

"Oh shit." repeated Uncle Mac.

"Now what, you profane old Coot?" queried Farm Girl, who had slithered in through the garden side door.

"I had my heart set on some of Millie's waffles." said the Coot, rocking back in his chair and slapping well padded ribs, "But Lacey shanghaied her way the hell and gone into outermost wormhole-ville. Looks like Duncan dog nuts again."

"Oh, I'm sure Farm Girl would be happy to warm something up for you." Vida G said innocently.

"What does the note say, anyway?" inquired Farm Girl, wagging a finger at Vida.

"Well lets see" said U-Mac and popped the old fashioned wax seal, "Hmmm. Hogwarts... Potter... Moody... weredragons... bullets ineffective - hah! Told you... oh here we go."

LACEY DELACROIX

"She wants to know can her Mom and two sisters come for the Holidays. Hard to imagine Lacey having a mother. Do we know anything about these ladies?"

"Oh sure; bunch of Girl Scouts", said Farm Girl, sliding behind a keyboard, "I'll put them on the big screen."

"This is the little sister, Stacey..."

STACEY DELACROIX

"She looks like a nice sweet kid.", said Uncle M, "And look, she has her own cutlery, she can help Leatherface in the kitchen if she has a mind to."

"She's a master of make up and disguise. Try to imagine her as an 80 year old." said Vida G.

"Can't"

"Try to imagine her naked." suggested Farm Girl.

"Schweet!" exclaimed Uncle Mac without thinking.

"Really, Angus", said Farm Girl, "You are a warped and depraved trailer load of pond slime. And that is a scurrilous canard on slimes of all species, everywhere. That sweet and innocent little bit of scarlet fluff is none other Mother Forker, if the name means anything to you?"

"The Pitchfork Serial Killer?" said Uncle M, obviously surprised.

"None other!" said Vida.

"Wow!", exclaimed Uncle Mac, "What's the butchers bill up to these days?"

"Twenty two, but one is disputed." said Farm Girl, "One might be the work of a copy cat."

"Lacey's influence I guess", said Uncle Mac.

"Maybe", said FG, "but probably not. Remember, Lacey wasn't around much when Red here was growing up, and she was a good girl back then; an MP, a Seattle cop, a private investigator..."

"Stripper and bank robber don't forget." said Uncle Mac.

"Yes, but that was later on. I think big sister Tracey may be the culprit."

Farm Girl tapped a few keys.

"Christ on a Harley", said Uncle Mac, and his tone was reverential if his words were not.

TRACEY DELACROIX

"I thought you might say something like that. A freelance contract killer like Lacey, but with no scruples, no mercy, and no qualms about the target. And possibly the best with a rifle in the US."

Uncle Mac looked up. "Better than Lace?"

"Almost impossible to say, since neither one apparently ever misses."

"Better than me?" inquired Vida to an spontaneous outburst of hilarity from Uncle and FG, and also from Mallory who had floated over from some recess in the Shed to see what was causing the excitement.

"What?" said a petulant Vida, "I'm getting to be a very good shot, everybody says so!"

"What everybody says," said Uncle Mac, "when you aren't around, is that you couldn't hit a bull in the ass with a shotgun, if you were using it to check it's prostate. That's what everybody says, just to set the record straight."

"Oh I say old man! A trifle harsh don't you think?", interjected Mallory, ever the gentleman.

"But am I wrong?"

"Erm. No. I believe I heard our own Auntie A express some such sentiment right after Vida's difficulty with Victor."

"Difficulty? She missed Victor Romanov by a country mile!", said Uncle Mac.

"I...", said Vida.

"You missed him three times!"

"But...", said Vida.

"Once from 70 feet!"

"Yes...". said Vida.

"And you blew a hole through Violets house and she still has not stopped bitchin' about it!"

"Well", said Vida, "I need more practice!"

"We've been through this", said Farm Girl, "next is Momma Delacroix."

"A cookie bakin' homebody kind o' gal, is she?" said Uncle Mac, with no real hope of being correct.

"Sure." said Farm Girl and tapped a key, "If you like cookies made from gelignite and we're talking about St. Cecelia's Home for the Criminally Insane."

CASEY DELACROIX

"Meet Casey Delacroix, a veritable Betty Crocker."

"Ah!", said Uncle Mac "Stacey's mom still got it goin' on! Well they look like a lovely family and I'm sure we'll be delighted."

He grabbed a pen, wrote "Y'all come" on the bottom of the note, stuffed the note in the envelope, taped it shut and spun it over to Vida G.

"I expect the owl is still hangin' around?"

"Exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. BobKat last I checked."

"Well give this back to him and send him on his way."

"C'mon George let's go get some donuts."

"Right-ho!"

And that is what they did.

A Poet Receives a Bad Review

2013-11-12T14:50:00.000-08:00

The printer stopped chattering, and the Shed grew uncustomarily quiet.

Uncle Mac glanced up from the sports section of the "North Jersey Liberal Bias" news and fish wrap. He had been reading the Green Bay Packers injury list. He had been at it for half an hour and was not in the sunniest of moods.

"What the hell is that?" he inquired, indicating the heap of paper in the printer catch tray with the stem of his pipe.

"Ah", said Farm Girl, "Well may you ask!"

"I just did ask", Uncle Mac pointed out. "I was hoping for an answer."

"Well all right, Captain Surly", replied FG. "It's the collected poetic output of one Mac Pike, a poet who hails from North Jersey, just like we do!"

"A modern day Shakespeare, is he?"

"Umm no, not precisely", said Farm Girl, "More of a modern day Milo Fishbinder, or Emily C. Thwackwhistle."

"Who might they be?" inquired Delacroix from the corner, where she had been meticulously cleaning her latest acquisition, a Metaba-Unica .44 magnum autorevolver,* after an hour or so at the range.** "Never heard of either of them."

METABA UNICA SELF COCKING REVOLVER IN .44 MAG.

"My point exactly.", Farm Girl said, "Here, let me treat you to something:"

"A long, long time ago
I can still remember how a big old pickerel made me grin
Then I went off to college jist, to be an ichthyologist

(At this, Uncle Mac flinched)

Thought I’d be happy working for a fin.

(Delacroix rolled her eyes)

But Name That Fishy made me quiver
What’s on my line? Caused me to shiver.
Bad news ‘bout the oarfish,
I just can’t take no more fish!"

"Gawd", said Unc, "He rhymes 'jist' with 'Ichthyologist'? That's unconscionable. "

"And that 'fin' pun!" said an obviously affronted Delacroix. "What's the rest of it?"

"That's all there is, there ain't no more. But what there is could be sung to 'Bye Bye Miss American Pie', if you had the hankerin' to do so."

"I do not hanker thus, why that is an atrocious bit of work! And the damned thing leads nowhere, there is no concluding statement! Do you have anything better in that heap?"

"Nope. In fact that may be the pick of the litter."

"You said he's local, can you narrow that down a bit?" said Lacey.

"I think so", said FG.

There was much clattery of keys.

"That can't be right", she muttered, and the clattering resumed.

She stared at the screen. "He's a neighbor! We could walk to his house!"

Lacey commenced reloading the Metaba.

"Maybe I should." mused Delacroix

"Normally I don't hold with killing off the neighbors", said Uncle M, "but in this case..."

"It would be a mercy." Delacroix concluded for him. "What's that address, Stephanie?"

Farm girl read it out.

"Woof!" said Lacey, "Definitely too close for comfort. I'll be back in a half hour give or take."

She departed through the Orchard-side door.

The door reopened and leaning in, Delacroix said, using her best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice:***

"I'll be beck."

*https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Mateba+44+Magnum&&view=detail&mid=7F9EAD03994CB244A91A7F9EAD03994CB244A91A&FORM=VRDGAR

**The valley just over the back ridge

*** Which is frankly awful. It sounds like Werner Von Braun with a lung full of helium gas

Agnes passes a test, of sorts

2013-11-04T12:04:00.003-08:00

It was a slow day at the shed, the first frost had happened overnight and no one really wanted to be outdoors in the cold. The cast iron combination cooking and heating stove was throwing off a pleasant warmth and the folks who were present tended to stay close by.

Farm Girl leaned back in Uncle Mac's disreputable ancient easy chair. She had her feet up on the table and was reading a magazine as she waited for her toenail polish to dry.

"Kids really have it easy today", she observed, "probably too easy. I'm looking at a test for third graders from around 1888 and they wanted them to write a sentence using the word, 'Ergo', demonstrating comprehension of it's meaning. What third grader could do that today?"

YOU WERE HOPING FOR A PEEK AT
FARM GIRL DRYING HER TOENAIL POLISH,
WEREN'T YOU, YOU LECHER. BUT INSTEAD
YOU GET AUNT AGNES, TREATING HER
DRY THROAT.

"Hell that's easy," said Agnes, "Any damned fool can do that' un."

Farm Girl peered at her over the magazine.

"Ok, Aggie. What have you got?"

"Well", said Agnes, stopping to take a pull on her longneck, "How about: 'Right about now I don't know if I should stay er go?' "

"Sound about right?"

"Oh, about." said Farm Girl and wiggled her toes.

An Unnecessary Interruption

2013-10-20T11:10:00.001-07:00

A quiet afternoon around the shed. Uncle Mac was trying to find the Packers' game on TV; Farm Girl was filing her nails.

"I haven't seen Leatherface around lately." she said.

"You know," said Uncle M, "you're right. He's hard to miss and usually underfoot. He went after Victor I think. Maybe..."

The garden side door burst open at that point and the irrepressible Vida G burst in wearing full gardening attire and carrying a basket filled with what could only be the last of the Swiss chard.

"Hey!" she said, "What delicious and healthful green vegetable is always overcooked?"

Farm Girl and Mac gaped at her.

"Chard!" she said, and exited through the orchard door, evidently en route to the now Leatherfaceless kitchen in the main house.

Farm Girl and Uncle M exchanged glances.

The orchard door opened again. Vida reappeared.

"That's my veggie joke. I'm making up a whole bunch of 'em."

The door swung nearly shut, then popped back open.

"I might try stand up!"

Uncle Mac nodded. Farm Girl finger-wiggled a good bye.

The door closed.

"I blame myself." said Mac.

"So do I." said Farm Girl.

Sproiiing!

2013-09-17T12:27:00.002-07:00

"Farm Girl", said Uncle Mac, "This has been a terrible gardening year. What did we actually wind up with? Kale? Chard? When is the last time collards failed? 1650?"

"I wasn't around in 1650." Farm Girl reminded him. "You might ask Millie. But cheer up! The garlic looks good; the cloves we put in a week or so ago popped up unexpectedly."

"In a few weeks we can dry Agnes out for a day and let her cover the new shoots with straw for extra protection."

Uncle regarded Farm Girl speculatively.

"You know, speaking of unexpected pop-ups..."

Farm Girl tried to look indignant but failed miserably.

"Hay loft, you Old Goat?" she queried.

"Hay loft would be fine." replied the Old Goat.

Farm Girl's Corner - Goin' fishin'

2013-07-15T18:07:00.003-07:00

"Wow!" exclaimed Farm Girl, "That cold water is a real eye opener when it hits your hoo-hoo!

"You just said, 'hoo-hoo' ", observed Delacroix, "and with a straight face."

"Yes", said Farm Girl primly. "You don't want me to be crude do you? This is a family site."

"First of all you're a grown woman, second, it isn't a family site! Nobody visits this site. Not families, not crooked politicians to use a redundancy, not dirty old men in third floor walk up apartments in Hoboken." said Delacroix, "You want to say the P word, say it! C word? Who could possibly have a problem with that? You have to be reading content before you can start bitching about content. How about vag? I think vag is ok?

"Vag is ok. I'll stick to hoo-hoo, though."

"Stick to your sheets if that's what you want. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Trying to catch every fish mentioned at "http://www.bubblews.com/pulses/171475-namethatfishy" which would be a feather in my cap."

"Why do you want feathers in your cap?"

"I don't want feathers in my cap! What I really want to do is read all the entries at "http://www.mygardeningnetwork.com/ ", the best gardening site on the web.

"Oh I see", said Delacroix, "well who wouldn't?"