The Shed

The Shed
The Shed

Sunday, April 23, 2017

New veggies for the 2017 vegetable garden


"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."


"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."


"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."


"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.