This year, being the proud Obamabot that I am, I eagerly followed the left wing conspiracy all the way to my garden. Never mind the fact that I live at 9000 ft in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado and get exactly 11.3 weeks of contiguous summer. The White House grounds currently survive an inordinate measure of chill under the scrutiny of the GOP. If Michelle could do it, I reasoned, so could I.

There are so many reasons why growing a vegetable garden appeals to me – not least of which is that we live so far away from Boulder. Being 40 minutes from the nearest grocery store has instilled in me a sense of creative do-it-yourself-ness. If I’m out of bread, I make it. If my kids are craving chicken nuggets, I break out the Fry Daddy. Krispy Kreme donuts? You better believe I’ve got a recipe and I’m not afraid to use it. I am a little old fashioned that way. Go ahead, make fun of me. I’ve still got my kickboxing gear and I’m not afraid to use that, either.

So when I run out of the basics—the lettuce, the tomatoes, the flour—I tend to panic a bit. These are the things that the Fry Daddy simply cannot construct. Having a garden would help me feel not so helpless over the distance. If I could just learn the way of the green thumb, I could break free from my dependence.

Since we have such a short growing season, we planted our seeds in late February, to ensure plenty of growing time. We Zone 4 gardeners were going to need as much help as we could get.

We put our little seeds by an East-facing window and waited for them to sprout. It was our daughter’s job to make sure that the dirt stayed moist and safe. But despite her diligence, nothing happened. Five-year-olds are not strong on patience and when there was no sign of a single sprout by May 1st, she gave up. She had also recently procured for herself a hamster. Hamsters always trump gardens.

Not to worry, I told myself as I took over her job of filling the watering can one morning. It was only May. No doubt those seeds knew this – and that’s why they hadn’t sprouted. They were on some sort of timer, just waiting for us to edge closer to summer.

I’ve never been very active politically before and it felt good to be doing something so directly supportive of the American way of life. May passed. June began. It was still cold and overcast most days, but a few sprouts had begun to appear. The carrots. The lettuce. They weren’t yet much – maybe a couple inches tall – but they had clearly awakened from their little veggie dreamland and were getting ready to go to town.

Ha! I thought to myself as I transplanted the seedlings in containers on my deck. Yes, we can!

Stoked to see the first fruits of my civic responsibility, I searched the Internet to see how Michelle’s garden was coming along. Just, you know, checking in. To my surprise and abject horror, the news was abuzz with the first White House harvest.

Here is a picture of the first lady harvesting some lettuce the size of elephant ears:

OK. Baby elephants. Possibly still fetal. But you get my point.

I considered my options. Should I boost the nutrition content of my soil? Should I buy a heat lamp and direct it over the containers during the afternoons when sun was sparse? Do a shaman sun dance? Build a sweat lodge? What would Michelle do?

Being the responsible Democrat I am, I once again consulted the Internet. I knew that Michelle’s garden was organic and therefore so should be mine, so I ruled out pesticides and enhancers. I couldn’t very well have a Monsanto garden. Very unpatriotic.

But despite my diligence and occasional naked moonlit dancing, things continued to slow down the progress of my patriotism.

First, a woodrat snuck in under the netting one night and razed the tomato plants to the ground. Didn’t eat the plants or anything. Just mowed them down and left them all akimbo to rot. Like a fucking Weed Whacker.

Next, I caught my 2-year-old blowing bubbles over the garden and then watering the pots with her bubble solution. Aha, I said to myself. It was entirely possible that this was not the first time this had happened. Truth be told, I had been suspecting it for a while as I had found an open bottle of “Miracle Bubbles” in close proximity to the growing zone more than once. But now that I had caught her in the midst of this act of agroterrorism, I raised the Homeland Security flag to red and sent her to her room amidst a flurry of tears and general toddler angst.

I had always suspected she was a Republican.

Coincidentally (or perhaps not) this was about at the same time of the fateful soil sample that spoiled the organic status of the First Garden. Her garden. It turns out that years earlier the Clintons had used sewage sludge to fertilize the lawn. The result? Highly elevated levels of lead. And still…local lead is better than imported lead, right? Right?

That little discovery didn’t stop Michelle from serving up home grown endive salads in the White House banquets and it wasn’t going to stop me. So I had now lost my zucchini. My Anaheims. My beets. I was not about to be thwarted in doing my part to make a better America just because of a hamster, bad weather, and the fact that a little old wood rat and a toddler had gotten into my garden and destroyed, oh, 80% of my potential crop thus far. I still had my lettuce, my chives, and my carrots, too. By all accounts, I was still looking at one fine salad at the end of the growing season. One mighty fine salad.

For the next couple weeks before the snow started to fly, I diligently watched over my struggling crop. The salad leaves were doing great and the two surviving carrots we had planted way back in February looked promising. More than promising. Long, lacy leaves towered above the remaining now-barren pots like a liberty flag. Nothing could stop us now. I might not have much of anything else left, but those two carrots made everything else OK. Those carrots meant that although obstacles had gotten in the way, there was still hope. Hope for a better garden next year. Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope for life itself and for the future of all that is good and right. Those carrots were the American dream.

I watched over those carrots like a mother bear watches over her cub. Long afternoons were spent near the window and sitting on a chair overlooking the remainder of my freedom garden. We were in the final stretch.

Finally, the day came when I knew we couldn’t wait any longer. Snow was imminent and the nights would soon see the first frosts of autumn. I gathered the kids and we got to work. First the lettuce, then the chives. Next the carrots. It was glorious. True, it may not have been the bumper crop–or even the full salad bowl–for which I had hoped, but what we did pull up was inspiring, nonetheless. It was indeed the hope for a better tomorrow and for the prosperity of our progeny. Those carrots symbolized a new generation of global minded world citizens who would usher in an era of peace, justice and fulfillment for all. Hell, those carrots were not just carrots – they were Adam and Eve. I believe the picture speaks for itself:



TAGS: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

ERIKA RAE is the author of Devangelical, a humor memoir about growing up Evangelical (Emergency Press, December, 2012). She is editor-in-chief at Scree Magazine and nonfiction editor at The Nervous Breakdown. Erika earned her MA in Lit­er­a­ture and Lin­guis­tics from the Uni­ver­sity of Hong Kong and to this day can ask where the bath­room is in Can­tonese, although it is likely that she will not under­stand the answer. In her dream world, she fan­cies her­self a kung fu mas­ter clev­erly dis­guised as a gen­tle moun­tain dweller, eagerly antic­i­pat­ing dan­ger at the bot­tom of every latte. When she is not whipping one of her 3 children and denying them bread with their broth, she runs an ISP with her husband from their home in the Colorado Rockies.

One response to “My Democratic Carrots Have Genitalia…What Have Yours Got?”

  1. Erika Rae says:

    Original Comment Thread Below:

    78 Comments »

    Comment by Don Mitchell |Edit This
    2009-10-25 09:54:54
    You keep those carrots safe, Erika. I suggest you go for plastination (see Bodyworks), and then the next step would be eBay. But with a big reserve. There’s a lot of money to be made there, and you could put it towards a greenhouse.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 10:17:51
    A greenhouse. Sigh. The holy grail for the mountain gardener.

    I don’t know about eBay. Don’t you have to have carrots that resemble the Holy Mother or something to make it big? I saw that once with a Cheetoh that looked like a crucifix. Cheesus Crunch!

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    Comment by Don Mitchell |Edit This
    2009-10-26 03:17:26
    Maybe a cold frame? Cheap and easy to build, and might get you that May growth you need. Here’s one link:

    http://www.greenfootsteps.com/cold-frame-design.html

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 06:02:41
    Funny you should suggest that. We’ve been discussing just that. Great idea, indeed. Now…I just need to actually build one.

    Comment by Meghan |Edit This
    2009-10-26 07:09:33
    I was going to suggest a cold frame, too.

    And – those carrots ARE the American Dream. They’re great.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 11:42:49
    Yes, indeed. Although now I find myself humming “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Mis, pausing dramatically before the ending line, “Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.” Sigh.

    Reply here

    Comment by Will Entrekin |Edit This
    2009-10-25 10:00:13
    Heh. Awesome. Loved this. I grew up in Jersey, and true to its status as the Garden State, my parents planted large gardens in our backyard every year. We kids always had to participate. They canned tomatoes and peppers, sauteed zucchinis, and one year we even managed a pumpkin patch our entire cul de sac used for carving. My brother used to eat the harvested cherry tomatoes on the way from the garden to our back porch, and they remain known as Mikey Maters in our household. And salads.

    I think my favorite was the year we planted cucumbers next to the watermelons. Which are apparently related enough they can cross pollinate and affect each other’s growth; our cucumbers ended up short and plump, while the supermodel watermelons were long and skinny. I don’t remember if they tasted any different.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 10:14:46
    You are a true patriot, Will. That or you’re showing off your garden prowess.

    Humph.

    I wish I could supply my entire neighborhood with pumpkins.

    [stomps off the comment section]

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    Comment by Will Entrekin |Edit This
    2009-10-25 11:32:13
    I could never compete with those carrots, which are totally rad.

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    Comment by Robin Antalek |Edit This
    2009-10-25 10:30:10
    I have to know: did you eat the American Dream? Is that where it went?
    What a great piece…I loved it!

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 10:38:24
    Oh, blasphemy! How could I have eaten those? No, no…I did what any proud American would do: I put them out on display for all of the world to see, allowing them to slowly wither over time from lack of care or upkeep.

    Alas. I have allowed the American Dream to shrivel to impotence.

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    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-25 11:08:53
    Those carrots are brilliant!! I agree with Don, you should stick ‘em up on Ebay immediately and sell them for lots of money. Get the local papers to do a story on your ‘biblical’ vegetables and watch the bids increase – shriveled or not!
    What a lovely, funny piece, Erika. You have inspired me to go out and commence a snail slaughter before they totally destroy what’s left of my garden…

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 12:10:32
    Thanks, Zara.

    I hear snails won’t cross a line of copper coins. Is this true?

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    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-25 12:30:57
    I’ve never heard that. I just drown them in beer…

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 17:19:06
    Way better way to go.

    Reply here

    Comment by Greg Olear |Edit This
    2009-10-25 11:42:53
    The person who buys them on eBay will of course be, mirabile dictu, a Republican.

    What a riot, that picture! You guys must have laughed and laughed.

    Incidentally, this was a bad year for gardens, just in general. Too much rain, nit enough sun, or some shit. Tomato blight, tiny pumpkins. You’ll get ‘em next year.

    G

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 12:23:52
    No doubt. What’s worse it will probably be someone claiming that they are proof of the inherent obscenity of the entire left wing. They will be held up as irrefutable proof that we are all shooting porn movies in our basements using innocent tubers and a few props stolen from our neglected children’s toy bins. Veggie Tales Gone Wild.

    Oh, how low we have sunk.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Carissa |Edit This
    2009-10-25 15:20:42
    Unbelievable.
    Where did you bite first?

    Hilarious, Erika. If it makes you feel better, I did a day of community service a couple weeks ago, and the lady assigned me to an entire 6 hours of harvesting rotten tomatoes. Yay for nature’s bounty.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 17:21:04
    Please tell me you did a crime worthy of said community service. Knowing you, however, I’m guessing that one was just out of the goodness of your heart. I like to think that you and your fellow pickers got punchy at the end and turned it into a tomato fight. Heh. Cause that would have been totally fun.

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    Comment by Rich Ferguson |Edit This
    2009-10-25 16:09:47
    Not to worry, Erika. If that Zone 4 garden of yours ever fails, there’s always that garden in your heart. That one’s growing wild and beautiful, I’m sure.

    And hey, if I’m wrong about that one, you can go ahead and strap on your kickboxing gear and pummel my ass.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 17:22:43
    Regardless of whether you are right or wrong, I’m seriously contemplating the gear. Just because that would be a hoot. I’m sort of scared of your Bond girl moves, though. Maybe I shall preemptively strike with that chilled Bollinger and a rose….

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    Comment by jmblaine |Edit This
    2009-10-25 16:54:42
    Backslider.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-25 17:23:21
    Ha! That was all you needed to say. Made me laugh my head off.

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    Comment by D.R. Haney |Edit This
    2009-10-25 22:28:33
    Ken and Barbie surely envy your carrots.

    But isn’t the male wearing a French tickler?

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 06:05:42
    Oh my goodness. Hilarious. But I believe those are called “freedom ticklers” now, yes? Those carrots are grade A Americana, baby.

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    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 12:35:23
    BAAAAHAHAHA… Freedom Tickler.

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    Comment by Rebecca Adler |Edit This
    2009-10-26 03:40:25
    I grew my garden from seeds too. I have about as much patience as your daughter in that sense. I wanted to see seedlings IMMEDIATELY. Luckily I was living in California though so it really only took a couple of days for it to happen.

    I’m so glad your carrots were a success! I still haven’t tried my hand at root vegetables. Hopefully my next living arrangement will allow for something other than a container garden.

    P.S. I never knew about Michelle Obama’s garden. How did I miss this in the news? I feel so out of the loop now.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Rebecca Adler |Edit This
    2009-10-26 03:41:07
    Erm, that should say I grew my garden from seeds *this year* too.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 06:12:18
    …and I’m surprised I actually DID hear about it (the garden) as I manage to always be a little behind on my news. But aren’t you in Istanbul or somewhere? Nice of you to drop in!

    Oh – and I would LOVE to have a real garden, too. We just have so many animals up here! Everything has to be out of reach of the big animals while also impervious to the little ones. I’m not kidding about those pesky wood rats, either. They’re cute, but MAN. They are the bane of my mountain existence. I once had one break into my house while I was on vacation. I came back to a midden pile higher than my knees including various shreddings of fabrics from around my house, toys from the kids’ room, a couple of VHS tapes, and topped with a lampshade. God, I wish I were making that up.

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    Comment by josie |Edit This
    2009-10-26 05:02:22
    I think those carrots require some fig leaves…

    Next year I suggest some prelimenary planting caucuses and a town meeting or two afer the initial planting… And if you’re going to get that garden right you’re going to have to do things a little different. Skip that old fashioned naked dancing and have a real motivational talk with the seeds. If you can just convince them they’ve got a bumper crop within them… the whole world will be impressed by your garden.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 06:16:04
    Fig leaves, indeed!

    Nice to hear from you, Josie – I think the motivational speech is a grand idea. Maybe they just need some Zig Ziglar. Don’t we all?

    Even so, I could never skip the naked moonlight dancing.

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    Comment by Mary Richert |Edit This
    2009-10-26 06:19:45
    Oh, awesome! I love your carrots. Great story.

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 11:41:00
    Thanks, Mary!

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    Comment by Dana |Edit This
    2009-10-26 07:47:34
    Your carrots are spectacular and impossibly patriotic. Great writing Erika!

    I hope you at least enjoyed your lettuce and chives.
    My wee garden didn’t fare well this year – too rainy, too chilly etc, although I had jalapeno’s and grape tomatoes coming out of my ears. Oooh – I bet you could grow killer potatoes! They’re pretty easy and the kids would have fun digging them up.

    If you do another round next year, save yourself some heartache and put in a a few plants to mix in with the seeds. Oh and ps – if you harvest most kinds of lettuce without pulling it up, it grows back.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 11:39:00
    That’s funny about the lettuce. The lettuce that came up was actually lettuce I had planted last year. Oblivious as I am, I had no idea it would pop back up – and so I used the container it was in to plant chives. Hence the lettuce and chive success. That entire pot was somehow spared from above stated disasters. It did look sort of funny to have both things popping up together.

    Yeah, I’m an awesome gardener.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Gina Frangello |Edit This
    2009-10-26 09:28:57
    OMG! This is so funny. The funniest part of all may be my relief that someone actually grew even more dementedly deformed carrots than I did in my own garden! Mine all kind of resembled trolls. But not pornographic trolls. I’m so jealous!

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    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:22:05
    Trolls! I’ll bet they were cute. Kind of Chia-like. Maybe we need to hold a carrot contest next year.

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    Comment by Autumn |Edit This
    2009-10-26 09:54:39
    Those carrots are hysterical, Erika!

    My mom used to grow veggies in our backyard. I remember corn, cabbage, broccoli, and carrots. And pineapples, oranges, and papayas. (I grew up in FL.)

    Even now–years later–if my mom is tilling up the earth to redo her gardens, every now and then she’ll find a skinny carrot disguised as a weed.

    Here’s wishing you chartreuse thumbs for next year!

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 11:40:11
    Thanks, Autumn! I need all the luck and good wishes I can get. Man. A Floridian garden must be heaven.

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    Comment by Megan DiLullo |Edit This
    2009-10-26 12:19:43
    Yeah, I don’t even know what to say.

    THAT IS SO AWESOME! You should have shellacked them.

    I wish I could grow perverse veggies. I’m going to have to get some of your trade secrets.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:23:46
    That is exactly what I *should have* done. I feel so irresponsible. And as one of my best friends told me when she learned that I let them wither instead of placing them on eBay, “Well, there goes your children’s college education.”

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Kimberly M. Wetherell |Edit This
    2009-10-26 13:36:36
    BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

    … searching for carrot merkin puns …

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 13:44:31
    Wouldn’t that be salad dressing?

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:26:33
    Raw carrots? Carrot sticks? I got nothing. You win, Simon.

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    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:29:18
    Wait a second… I… win?

    I win?

    I win!

    It begins!

    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:34:06
    Oh Erika, what have you done? He is going to be insufferable now…

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:37:58
    More insufferable than ever!

    Comment by Kimberly M. Wetherell |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:43:23
    Salad dressing.

    (the best I could muster was “cold slaw”.)

    I bow to your pun-tastic prowess. You might win this time, Smithson, but I’ll be back. Oh yes. I will be back.

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:45:14
    Hey, a good pun is no joke.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 15:43:10
    My carrots are dirty, no doubt. But I can’t say that I carrot all for garden humor. It’s a bit too corny for my liking. Even so, vegetable puns are hard to beet.

    Veggie box?

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 15:47:16
    Erika, you’re going to drive me bananas. Lettuce agree to disagree on garden humour, because I think it’s the most down-to-earth form of joking.

    (Heh. Veggie box).

    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-26 15:53:51
    Wow. It’s bean awhile since I heard a good vege pun. You guys squash the competition.
    Increase the Pease.

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 15:56:26
    We should be getting paid for this, although that really would be garnishing our celery. Normally some of the other writers would be getting into this; maybe they’re off taking a leek.

    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:11:35
    Or maybe they prefer to be cool as cucumbers. No doubt someone will sprout up soon and pepper this thread with more puns.

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:14:57
    You’re right, she’ll be apples.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:18:26
    AAAAAACK!

    OK OK – You still win.

    I wonder what old carrots take for *crisper* vegetables? You know…to put a little spice in their pumpkin patch?

    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:20:30
    I think they just need a little bit of thyme..

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:22:05
    And Zara – give us another one. For the sake of whirled peas.

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:23:00
    I think this is a topic to broach ginger-ly.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:24:35
    Hahaha! Your comment hadn’t cropped up yet. You beat me to the punch.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:28:26
    BTW, I did manage to get some nice carrots last year – although they didn’t appear nearly so well endowed. It’s possible, however, that it was just too chili to tell.

    Comment by Simon Smithson |Edit This
    2009-10-26 16:30:53
    *snort*

    HA!

    Chili.

    Comment by D.R. Haney |Edit This
    2009-10-27 00:55:36
    Cop knocks at door.

    “Excuse me, but do y’all have a permit to be punning this much and this bad? No? Okay, I’ll let it go with a warning this time, but if you keep it up, I’m coming back, and it ain’t going to be pretty.”

    Comment by Don Mitchell |Edit This
    2009-10-27 02:19:18
    I’ll just sneak in the generic “root crops” and let it go at that. Simon.

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-27 05:32:12
    I do believe our fun has been squashed.

    Comment by D.R. Haney |Edit This
    2009-10-27 05:40:21
    [Sound of approaching siren]

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-27 06:26:25
    Look out – it’s the pod squad!

    (I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. But it was way better than ‘who died and made you Pod?’)

    Comment by Zara Potts |Edit This
    2009-10-27 10:09:09
    Root crops.. Hahahahahah.

    Reply here

    Comment by Phat B |Edit This
    2009-10-26 13:52:50
    You should get intro hydroponics Erika. It would, if nothing else, make you a lot of new hippy friends. You like hacky sack, right?

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-26 14:24:33
    No, but I don’t mind frisbee. Hippies like frisbee, right?

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Phat B |Edit This
    2009-10-26 18:21:33
    Hippies LOVE frisbee.

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    Comment by Aaron Dietz |Edit This
    2009-10-26 17:57:45
    Those are some scary carrots. I’d love to see them star in the sequel to Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Erika Rae |Edit This
    2009-10-27 05:34:46
    The “boy carrot” does look kind of badass with his spiky little hairstyle… One could say he is the Bruce Willis of the veggie world. Very Hollywood.

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Irene Zion |Edit This
    2009-10-27 10:22:59
    Erika Rae!
    You created a vegetable Adam and Eve! I think this leaves you with a lot of responsibility to create a new Garden of Eden for the vegetable kingdom. Now you have to come up with the rules. What can they do? What is the ONE thing that they can’t do? Wow. I wouldn’t want this much on my shoulders, but you’re a tough one, you are. You can do it.

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    Comment by Paul |Edit This
    2009-10-28 02:42:39
    if your readers are looking for more information on USDA plant hardiness zones, there is a detailed, interactive USDA plant hardiness zone map at http://www.plantmaps.com/usda_hardiness_zone_map.php

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    Comment by N.L. Belardes |Edit This
    2009-10-29 06:01:13
    Bizarroville!! Hey, don’t worry about your troubles. The White House gardener who has been through Republican and Democrat prezzes also walks the Obama dog. The dude is superman. And he’s obviously been tending to the Obama garden. You on the other hand are even better than the First Lady. You tackled all of nature without the Feds behind you.

    Nice carrot weenie. hahahaha

    Reply to this comment

    Comment by Uche Ogbuji |Edit This
    2009-10-29 21:09:51
    You know, the anthropomorphic mutation *might* have been from agency the bubble solution. I’m just sayin’ the republican toddler might have been making a fine point of Genesis.

    Hmm. OK never mind

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