Veggie Patch Dispatch: Sweet Potatoes are Assholes

Seriously, they are. Those no good motherfuckers. Dudes. Some of you already know about Veggiopolis. It was my first-ever attempt at anything like vegetable gardening. Unless you count two little pots of rosemary and other assorted odds and ends – all potted and chillin’ on my half-rotten deck. Yeah, I didn’t think so.

The Setup:

A couple of women at work are always yammering on about their homegrown veggies. Now this is something I’d wanted to try for years: a little backyard veggie garden. I’m not a big veggie eater. In fact, I usually look upon them with scorn and scoot them right the hell over if they dare hop onto my plate. But a veggie garden sounded fun. At least one of my mamaws had a serious green thumb, but she had zero interest in passing her know-how on to anyone else. So I collected the random book and internet article, but I was too overwhelmed and afraid of failing to ever get anything going.

I mentioned this long discarded desire to Queen Bitch of the Universe, she of the supposed Super Garden. And then I took her advice on so many things. I thought, hell, it’s easier to rely on someone’s word of mouth information from experience than it is to try to pry that shit out of books and the internet and pick what I think may work best. This was gonna be guaranteed success! Seeds and starters and tips from Queen Bitch Master Gardener Extraordinaire herself! Don’t worry, I knew this would come with head swelling and bragging, and I was right. It wasn’t long before I had to take a chainsaw to the office entryway so that Queen Bitch’s head could fit through.

Well guess the fuck what. Queen Bitch is not only Queen Bitch but she’s also Queen Moron, because my poor woebegone Veggie Patch suffered from woebegotten advice. (Don’t you love those words? They’re woebeawesome!) No, it wasn’t just the scorching record-breaking summer heat! No, it wasn’t just the record-breaking drought! It was also that woebegotten advice! (Hehe there it is again. I’m not even certain it’s a real word. But it is to me. And that’s all that counts, isn’t that right Velveteen Rabbit and Pinocchio?)

Where it all went wrong:

You see, I planted sweet potato slips in my little raised bed veggie patch. Only 4 slips. And I gave them four squares…or four square feet of growing area. Yeah. Those of you that know gardening and things probably see where this is headed.

This past weekend was supposed to be harvest time. Time to dig up those sweet taters. The vines and leaves looked lush and gorgeous. They’ve been the healthiest citizens of Veggiopolis to date, well those and my green onions. I decide to tackle the sweet potato area one square at a time. There were only four, but I liked the idea of being systematic about it.

Gingerly, timidly I tug on the vine nearest my perch at the edge of the patch. It’s rooted pretty well, so I pull harder. Success: the piece of vine in hand comes up and dislodges from the soil. But it breaks off at the surface. I realize I need to use my little spade if I want this to go quickly and efficiently.

image

image

I dig in and find a thick thread of root. Tossing the spade aside, I latch on to the root and start to pull, sliding my hand along and pulling as I go…a bit gentler now so as not to break the root again.

Dude.

Just how long is this root?

Seriously.

Wait, what the hell, man. What’s it doing over there? Ah well, that’s okay. I mean, it’s not like roots are going to obey some arbitrary boundaries between my marked off squares, right?

Oh no way. The square just to the left is nothing BUT sweet potato roots. No wonder that damn pumpkin died. I must be nearing the end, though, I think as I continue following this root to its end. I was positively flummoxed. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded.

You wanna know where that root went? Hm? Yeah. You already know, don’t you? All the way to the timber bordering the box on the opposite side of Veggie Patch. Look, Veggiopolis is small, measuring 4 x 6 on the inside for 24 square feet of planting area. The sweet potatoes are in the bottom right corner from the way I was facing it. Which means the roots stretched clear across the 6′ length on the inside. And those assholes were not content to do a 1 x 6 spread. Oh no.

At this point, I started attacking the soil with vigor, hurling a vituperative verbal assault on the scheming Taters of Doom. I found sweet potato vines and creepers entangled with the long-dead roots of my green bean bushes. They never stood a chance. The snaking roots of the warring Tribe o’ Taters had infiltrated the carrots’ realm and annihilated them as well. And the poor peas. Situated as they were at the far opposite end of Veggiopolis, the English peas had struggled mightily. Oh how I believed in those peas. But they, too, had been slain in the end and succumbed to great forces of evil. And now I know why.

The devastating triad of Record Heat, Drought and Taters of Doom crushed all in its path. Not to mention the fact that I’m a rookie. My poor veggie patch had never stood a chance. Only the onions stood their ground. I have newfound respect for the Mighty Green Onions of Veggiopolis. Nevermore will I push them aside on my plate. I shall eat them and make their mightiness a part of me! (Ew. I’m pretty sure I just said something akin to becoming one with green onions. The fuck, man.)

You know nothin’, Jon Snow:

The moral of the story is this: Never paint your toenails on the Sabbath. Wait. Wrong moral. Or wrong story. Uhm. Oh yeah. Don’t put asshole sweet potatoes in a raised bed with other vegetables. Because Sweet Potatoes are Assholes. And also, Green Onions are for Winners. And no-nothing newbies should really do some more fucking research before walking to Mordor. I mean. Fuckin’ hell, I got sidetracked again. No wonder all my shit died.

The Harvest:

All that, and you wanna know what the harvest was? Hm? Words simply cannot do it justice. Let me show you. No, no. It’s no trouble. In fact, I insist.

image

image

Yeah. And the thing is, I didn’t finish. So there are probably tens of those scrawny fucks scattered throughout Veggiopolis. Fucking insurgents. But I met a Bonus Asshole that ran me off before I could finish my work.

Bonus Asshole:

This son-of-a-bitch right here made me throw the spade, scream and run away.

Wally the Wolf Spider. That's right. His name is Wally. It just came to me, though he probably tried to tell me then.
Wally the Wolf Spider. That’s right. His name is Wally. It just came to me, though he probably tried to tell me then.

Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. But my gardening fun was over for the afternoon following our rendezvous. I know wolf spiders aren’t really harmful; their venom doesn’t pack much punch. (That is a wolf spider, right?) Plus they’re good for gardens. But they’re not good for Stephanies. Oh no. Stephanies vividly imagine robbing wolf spiders of their lives by maniacally and repeatedly stabbing the shit out of them with the pointy end of a spade. And then Stephanies choose to let them live and run away instead.

P.S. I touched that asshole (ewwww the visuals) with my naked hand! No glove! You would have screamed and run, too! Don’t lie! Stop lying! Fine, I’m a wuss!

Advertisements

55 thoughts on “Veggie Patch Dispatch: Sweet Potatoes are Assholes

  1. Shit…I did similar stuff. If you feel like giving it another try next year, here’s something I picked up in Ireland: plant stuff like potatoes (or sweet potatoes) in an old trash can. As the plant starts to poke up thru the soil, bury it so none of it peeps thru. Your plants will keep growing taters all the way up…Seen people get a massive haul that way.

    Yeesh, tho! Hope you find all them pesky roots…They’ll trouble you again later.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s what I’m worried about. It’s dark by the time I get home now (thanks daylight savings time), so I probably won’t tackle it again until the weekend.

      I made a stupid mistake by planting garlic a week ago, and it’s already coming up. But I bet there are sweet potato roots under there that need digging out, too. Blahbity blah blah.

      I love your tip about potatoes! I heard something similar from Queen Bitch (not comparing you two, oh no)…but she didn’t elaborate. She was just like, “grow ’em in a trash can, then! That’s what you should have done.” Said the woman who told me to plant them with everything else.

      Ooooo I started bitching again. My bad. πŸ˜€ I’m gonna try the tatercan in spring!

      Liked by 2 people

      1. It’s pretty cool, and you can use anything that’s got some depth to it. Shame on Queen Bitch for not elaborating. Cooks are like that too; ask for a recipe (or try a recipe in a cookbook) and there’s always a trick or two they don’t tell you about. Hate that. When I finally get around to writing my cookbook (some three hundred original recipes; my bro and I are very into cooking) I’ll reveal everything. People who keep secrets about stuff like that are assholes; avoid them.

        Liked by 3 people

      2. OHMYGOSHWHAT. 300 original recipes?! I did a recipe book with my mamaw..just a little family thing. Probably 30 recipes in it. She was working on the next one when she passed.

        Dude, I’d totally buy that cookbook. That is, if you plan on publishing when the time comes.

        Oh. P.S. Queen Bitch is exactly the type you mention. I’ve caught her *intentionally * withholding information from me about all sorts of things.

        grumble grumble she applied for a new job recently. I’m crossing fingers and toes and arms and legs and hair and anyfuckingthing I can in hopes she gets it. But I bet she doesn’t. I bet she was a bitch in the interview.

        grumble grumble πŸ˜€

        Liked by 2 people

      3. lol! Well, maybe you’ll get lucky. If not, I feels for ya. I sooooooooo hate office politics bullshit.

        Tja! I’d love to do the cookbook but just the IDEA of writing recipes bores me to tears. Eeek! In my opinion, there’s nothing worse to write. I’ll take anything other than that. So the book remains, for now, an idea. πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Haha awesome πŸ˜‚. I reread this a few times, and cracks me up every time. Keep at it πŸ‘. P.s I love sweet potatoes (one of the only foods I can have on occasion) .

    Liked by 2 people

    1. YAYYY!! Thank you!! You’ve got me grinning like an idiot at my desk!

      And yeah – man it sucks. The worst part of the whole thing is that, even though it overtook the whole box, I still didn’t get a good harvest. I was pumped about those sweet potatoes! πŸ˜€

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I saw that you liked a comment of mine on http://aopinionatedman.com/2015/11/03/the-daily-opinion-where-are-you-from/comment-page-1/#comment-384113 So I thought I would see what you were all about. I am glad I did. Your gardening adventure had me laughing.
    Oh by the way that is just a baby wolf spider. Click here if you want to see a mommy spider. https://arlenedavidsully.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/wolf-spider-in-the-corner.jpg

    Liked by 1 person

    1. AHHHHH I don’t wanna clicky. Please don’t make me clicky. Oh my god if there’s baby wolf spider, mama’s probably lurking!

      Thank you for coming over…it’s a pleasure to meet you! And thank you for the compliment as well! πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Now that I’ve finally stopped laughing (WITH you, of course), I can finally thank you for telling me what NOT to do when I finally grow my own veggies for the first time next spring). None of those sweet potato assholes for me, thanks!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. The touchy-feely part with the furry spider sounded particularly fun. By the way, you’ve made my jaw drop by the sheer volume you write in such a short period of time. How the heck do you do it? Tell me your secret. Me jealous πŸ˜›

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Honestly? It’s horrible and kinda sad. The horrible part is that probably..half? Has been written at work. The sad part is that the other half has been written at home. From bed. Because I don’t have a life. πŸ˜€

        It’s okay to laugh. I’m smiling through my tears. πŸ˜‰

        Like

      3. Oh, I just remembered another part to it….there have been a few times that I knew I wouldn’t be able to write. So I wrote extra when I could and scheduled it to post later.

        Like

      4. I don’t have much of a social life either, unless the interactions I’m having in the blogosphere count towards having a ‘life’. The difference is that I spend a lot more time reading than writing, and I tend to censor myself, even in my own journal! Oh, and I don’t remember ever writing anying funny. Even on rare occasions when I want to write something lighthearted, it turns into something ridiculously serious. You, on the other hand, express your sense of humour so well! Hopefully, a little of you will rub off on me (oops, that came out…dirty).

        Liked by 2 people

      5. You’re too kind…ohmygosh. Thank you!!!

        I thought about censoring myself. Thing is, I curse waaaaay here than I do with my mouth. That sounds weird. But you know…at work, I’ll say shit or damn. Sometimes I’ll let a bitch fly if I’m reaaaaally angry. But only two or three people even hear me speak that way. Most people would probably tell you I’m one of those goody two-shoe sweethearts. I’ve had that said to me…and one of my coworkers snorted and retorted, “boy do you have them fooled.” I guess it’s all my manners. Y’all don’t get manners out of me here. πŸ˜€

        Geez, I just rambled so much I don’t even know what the hell I said..

        So I’ll thank you again, just in case. πŸ˜€

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Me, too kind? You, a goody two-shoe sweetheart? Wow, we’re both multifaceted, that’s for sure. For the record, it’s not the cursing that makes your writing funny…well, OK, maybe calling sweet potatoes assholes IS kinda funny. πŸ˜›

        Liked by 1 person

      7. Yes, but I like serious! I understand what you mean, though. I can’t ever be funny when I want to be funny. And when I’m trying to be serious, it usually ends up depressing or angry.

        But your poetry is really freakin’ good. I rarely comment much on poetry because I feel out of my depth and kind of intimidated, really…probably sounds silly, but it’s true! I do read it all, though…and it’s really good.

        Liked by 1 person

      8. Awwww shucks…you made me blush. I know what you mean about feeling out of your depth, as I feel the same way about other people’s poetry (and some other types of writing) as well. As for my own poetry, I always think it’s really transparent and simplistic, even when others tell me it’s deep and thought provoking. We tend to hold on to our own stubborn perceptions of ourselves despite what others tell us, don’t we? πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      9. I have, actually. And I can’t tell if you’re being serious or facetious! But I always dismiss the idea because I dunno if my head is on straight enough to even consider helping others. πŸ˜€

        Like

      10. I was only half-joking – I certainly felt better after our chat yesterday, and thought you would make a great therapist. I don’t think anyone has their head on completely straight, and even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to relate firsthand to the experiences of those whose head is not on straight.

        Liked by 1 person

Lay it on me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s