Gardeners by Trade, Pyrotechnicians by Birth?

We're gardeners, that's for sure.

I wouldn't say it's what we do best, but it is what we do often.

We're also pyrotechnicians. I wouldn't say its what we do often, but it's what we do best.

The real question lies in this: Is it environment or is it genetics? It's a question we'd rather not debate here, so... it's genetics.

We decided to use our God given talents and our Y chromosome and take care of our dried out pea stalks and spinach trees.

The lighting:

Whoops. I mean, er, the Lighting:

Don't worry, the bucket was filled with diesel fuel, just in case.

You don't learn these skills. You are born with them.

If you still disagree, talk to my mother.

Does 'Renaissance' Have Two S's or One?

This past week, we were honored to be graced by the presence and talent of Mrs Bernice Petersen, a local artist, gardener, and renowned chef (she makes the softest ginger snaps this side of the Mississippi). Indeed, she is what we would call a Renaissance woman. We invited her to participate in the painting of the garden, and were impressed when we discovered that she too has not one, but various parking lot gardens.

The owner of multiple apartments, she previously offered space to students for gardening. For some reason (laziness), no one ever took her up on the offer, and she finally decided to do the gardening herself. Much of the produce is graciously given to the tenants, who otherwise would be severely lacking in both thiamine and niacin, a tragedy we'd rather not discuss in these pages.

As discussed, Bernice arrived early in the morning. She knelt carefully on a blanket and painted swiftly. By the time I was dressed and ready to express my thanks, there was nothing left but a freshly painted garden, and a spoonful of fertilizer (she thinks of everything).

We couldn't have been more pleased with the outcome.

There may be some bias, but my personal favorite is this:

Thank you Bernice for your time and effort, and for contributing to the success of the garden. May your cookies continue to snap, your acrylic paintings crackle, and your pea pods pop, Rice Krispies.

BER - A Scientific Explanation

BER (Blossom End Rot).

Although we were disheartened to see such a gardening nightmare, we were enthralled to learn of both the scientific explanation and suggested resolution.

So what is BER?

First of all, let me give a disclaimer that certain individuals have previously complained about the technical level of the aforementioned material. Therefore, for the sake of the ignoramuses, who we'll call Dave and Tyler to keep them anonymous. No, that is too obvious. We'll call them Tyler and Dave. Yes. For their sake, we have included a brainless explanation that can be understood by both infant and imbecile alike.

Now, back to BER:

This may result from low calcium levels or high amounts of competitive cations in the soil, drought stress, or excessive soil moisture fluctuations which reduce uptake and movement of calcium into the plant, or rapid, vegetative growth due to excessive nitrogen fertilization.

Explanation for Tyler and Dave:

Not enough calcium (a vitamin). They go bad and mushy and stinky (not good).

After consulting with the Soil Science Society of America (SSSA), we have determined that we need to provide some type of calcium to the garden. We have since begun to allocate one cup of skim milk for every tomato plant per watering period.

Why skim milk?

the colloidal globules assist in the development of a phospholipid membrane, encapsulating the casein protein micelles bonded with calcium phosphate, which tend to scatter shorter wavelengths than both low-fat and full-fat varieties, providing for digestion of a key protein lactoglobulin, which aids in the absorption and storage of calcium in the vacuole.

Tyler and Dave:

because it tastes like water anyways, so the plants won't know the difference.

Why one cup?

simply put, because the lifespan of a tomato is equal to that of a canine multiplied by a factor of .0892. Therefore a standard tomato plant, which is 16% as voluminous as the average Golden Retriever, will consume on average, an estimated 28% of the typical 1st world canine daily consumption, but needs an average of 14% more food per relative day than the canine due to increased exposure from lateral extensions of foliage, has proven to react favorably to supplemental calcium when nutrients exceed the cubed root of the inverse of the tomato stem girth multiplied by estimated fruit circumference. Therefore, 1 cup is the logical amount to satisfy the Recommended Daily Value.

Tyler and Dave:

it's the only measuring cup we own.

Now that everyone understands well enough, we will give it a try and return and report.

Grass-Chompers Be Warned!

For those who wonder about the punishment of said crime:

Enough said.

Farewell, My Little Ones

It's time we said adieu.

"Adieu," said we.

So, moving on, let us continue to amuse with this riveting footage of destruction and mayhem.

And if that didn't wet your appetite for carnage, try this on for size

Um... yes, just disregard that one.

What I meant to say was this:

!

So, you may be wondering why. Let me entreat you to the answer. Weiner dogs.

Now back to the video.

Our peas lived a long and fruitful (are peas a fruit? probably not) life. They have since become nothing more than a fading memory of good times past.

Likewise went the spinach.

As for the flames - well, while pulling out the peas, Dave quickly discovered that a neighborhood spider had laid eggs. We were fortunate enough to catch them in the hatching period (fortunate for us, not for them).

Adieu peas. Adieu spinach. Good riddance spiders.

Adieu.

Don't Cry for Me

Onions.

"The easiest thing to grow."

Say no more. We're cursed already.

So a couple weeks back, I was given some onions from my co-worker Laurie.

Her exact words were "These are the easiest thing to grow. Stick them in the ground and they come up."

Well stick them in the ground, we did.

Not only did we stick them in the ground, but we marked their height for future reference, and placed a drone worker there to manage the soil (or de-mine it, whichever seemed most prudent to him). We also placed a time-lapse camera to capture the onion's growth.

Fourteen days later, we checked the film. Sadly, the only things caught on tape is footage of us marking the same spot each day on the measuring stick (don't worry Dave, we won't mention anything about the film of you playing with the army men, and we certainly won't mention the whimpering noises you made after a "worm bit you"). How this has happened, we're not sure. Even more disquieting is that the worker looks like he hasn't moved. What we're paying him for, I'm not sure, but I doubt he deserves it.

Now we're not sure where to go from here. Our tear ducts are full and ready to be used, but we just need something to cry about. (please see the newest poll)

It's Not All Fame and Fortune

This post is dedicated to our failures.

That's right, we're not perfect. Truth is, we have failed almost as many times as we have succeeded. To prevent incrimination, we won't say exactly who has been responsible for most of the failures. To keep it anonymous, we'll just call him T. Newton. No, that is too obvious. How about Tyler N?

Either way, here is a description of some of our more popular failures:

We originally filled 10 cups of dirt and planted 2 seeds in each. Of the 20 total seeds, we had two cucumbers and 1 pepper that came up. The other cups sat on our kitchen table for almost 3 months before we tossed them last week.

The cucumbers were transplanted outside on May 30. We proudly hovered over them that evening, discussing our genius and future fortunes. As we retired for the night, we were visited with dreams of cucumber fairies and pickled pixies.

For the 12 hours of their transplanted lives, they lived honorably.

Here's what they looked like after the snowfall.

By the next day, they had disappeared completely.

Now back to the last standing sprout: the green pepper.

While veiled in the robes of mourning for our lost cukes, we forgot to water the pepper and it suffered a slow and hot death in the window sill.

How about the other seeds we planted, such as sunflowers, broccoli, and banana peppers? Your guess is as good as ours. Twice we planted sunflowers, and twice we were skunked. Our broccoli and peppers never sprouted, and we soon dug a furrow through their resting grounds. I think they preferred a burial at sea.

And let's not forget the time we advertised our garden as "organic". The feds were on us like rats on a holiday fruitcake. Within 24 hours, the USDA showed up and shut us down. They issued a mandatory moratorium, claiming we lacked the necessary hive of ladybugs as required by law to maintain an "organic" label. Oh we had a hive... in fact, both ladybugs had been hand-placed in the garden. Who knew you had to register the queen bug with the USDA? (Don't worry, we resolved this one without AARP intervention).

Although we've had our share of failures, we must say that our fame and fortune has far exceeded our expectations.

In fact, our fortune now totals 12 cents (37 cents for a picture sold on eBay; however, we forgot to account for the cost of printing and envelopes - 25 cents, and yet another failure).

Our fame is basically nationwide as well. In fact, here is the link:

www.heraldextra.com

Scroll down to "Local News Video" and click on the DHTV Parking...

Paint the Garden Fundraiser Extravaganza

The title pretty much sums it up. Any time you use the word 'extravaganza', you are just leaving it open to whatever happens. That's exactly how we do things. It gives people some hope of something exciting, but if we fail, no one is too disheartened.

We began our fundraiser with our own significant donation to Tyler's fresh-emptied piggy bank.

It's what the founders would have wanted.

The event began around 9 pm.

To be honest, everything came together just hours before we started.

We recruited Kaden Shepherd as our (semi) professional skateboarder.

A ramp was found with a couple hours to spare (thanks Jill for your efforts).

After that, the rest was history.

Here are some pictures.

The event was full of interesting things:

The couches (motorized) made an appearance, and faked everyone out by pretending to attempt the jump.

Santa Clause showed up and bestowed everyone with presence (spelling intentional).

The jump was great. Kaden cleared it fine, and didn't even catch on fire.

The raffle was also successful. Not only did we raise enough to paint the garden liner, but we raised enough to donate to the local food bank.

And did I mention we had great raffle prizes...

She just won a leaf of fresh-cut spinach. If I remember right, her first words were "I'm going to Disneyland!" Say hi to Pluto for me.

He won a leaf of lettuce. I wonder what he'll do with it all.

Most importantly, we'd like to thank everyone that came out. Our goal was to make it a relatively painless experience, and we mostly succeeded.

Thanks to Ashley, Karin, Jill, Kaden, Clyde & Jana, and the city police for not shutting us down too early.

Believe in your dreams (a tear just fell from my eye).