#someone planted a carrot and it grew some carrot seed plant instead of an actual carrot

[35gofbeansprouts]

ppl on instagram are like . basically filming themselves discovering agriculture or gravity and making 5 minute educational videos about it and i legit cant tell whats jokes anymore

[rae-g]

Dire Need of a Change: Spring 6 - Curiouser and Curiouser

I’m never going to get used to waking up this early, am I? You spent the first part of the morning as you normally do; rinsing off in the shower, finding something easy to eat, getting dressed. As you begin lacing up your boots, you hear a knock at your door. You quickly glance over to your door, wondering who would dare to have the audacity to knock on your door at any point during the day, much less at 6am. You wait a few moments, hoping it was just your imagination, but another round of -knock- -knock- -knock- ruined that fantasy.

Standing up, you make your way to the door and open it to find a short, portly woman standing before you. She wore a large cinnamon-colored braid in her hair, and an outfit of red and green.

“Uh… Hi?” You look at the woman, confused.

“Hello!” She smiled, and her eyes bright.

MEW

You looked down, spotting a small orange cat in her arms. You looked back up at the woman and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the new farmer, right? I’m Marnie. I live at the ranch just south of your farm.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi, nice to meet you.” You continue to stand in the doorway, each moment becoming more and more bizarre.

Marine nervously chuckled, a soft and warm laugh coming from someone. “Well, I was out foraging in the clearing next to my ranch, and I found this,” she looked down at the cat, then back up at you, “sitting outside the entrance to your farm! I think it’s a stray… poor thing.”

“Oh.” You look back down at the cat, and carefully put out your hand, allowing it to sniff you. The cat sniffed your fingers for a few moments, then headbutted your hand. You smiled and started scratching it’s head.

“Well, if it isn’t too much to ask… Don’t you think this farm could use a good barn cat? I know we don’t really know each other, but it does seem to like you, and I’d hate for this little friend to be all alone.”

You look down at the little furry friend who has already begun purring. You gave a small smile and nodded. “Well… I don’t currently have a barn… But, it would be nice to have someone to watch TV with.”

Marnie’s face beamed as she carefully set down the cat. “How wonderful! I’m sure it’ll be so happy here.” She smiled softly, “You know about the upcoming Egg Festival, right?”

You kneeled and continued petting your small new friend. You looked up at Marine, “I don’t, actually.”

Marine grinned. “Well, it’s something we do every spring. I’m not sure if you currently have any chickens, but even if you don’t, we’d love for you to come. The whole town joins in and we have so many different dishes that people make. My nephew works hard all year prepping the chickens for the festival, and it’s always so much fun.”

You stand back up and brush your knees off. “Well, I think that could be fun. I’ll have to think about it. I’m not much of a cook, but it’s hard to say no to free food.”

Marnie beamed once more. “Well, I have to get back to the ranch before the shop opens. If you’re ever looking for animal care, please feel free to swing by!”

The two of you shook hands, and Marnie made her way towards the town. You looked down at your new responsibility and smirked. “Well… guess I’ll have to pick up some cat food for you later.”

----------

You spent most of the day continuing the monumental task of de-weeding your farm. There were still boulders, trees, rocks, and branches littered everywhere, but at least you were able to clear out a little more land. You began to think about what Marine had said. Chickens… Hmmm…You hadn’t even thought about having animals on your farm. The only buildings that seemed to stand the test of time at all were the main cabin, and the green house, but even those were in extremely rough shape.

You crossed your arms as you looked at everything. It was all going to be such a project. You shoulders slumped as every glance just added a new project to the list. I need to repair the green house. Clear out more trees and boulders. Get the oven working, and probably expand the house. Plus, if I want any buildings put up...You sighed. It was like a never-ending list.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you picked up your watering can and filled it up. You made your way over to your plants. The potatoes and beans were growing nicely, but it was the flash of yellow that truly caught your eyes. You bent down and moved some dirt, and gently tugged on the stem of the parsnip. It came up easily. Your eyes lit up as you stared at the little vegetable. A little on the small side, but it was definitely a parsnip. After dunking it in the watering can, you took a small bite.

“Oh! It’s sweet!” You took a few more bites, and before you knew it the entire vegetable was gone. You savored the taste of the fresh vegetable in your mouth. It was as if someone had sprinkled a carrot with sugar. You looked at the rest of the row and saw more flashes of yellow. “I… I have my first harvest.”

You smiled and began pulling up the small vegetables, inspecting each carefully before moving on. At the end, you had about nine. After watering the rest of your crops, you brought the parsnips inside and began rinsing them off. You picked out the best of the batch and looked around for a small basket or box. Grabbing one of the cardboard Joja boxes from your move, you placed them carefully inside and made your way towards Pierre’s.

----------

*ding*

The little shop bell alerted Pierre to your presence. He turned around and looked at you, “Ah! My favorite farmer. How can I help you out today?”

You walked up to the counter and smiled. “Yeah. I. Uh. Have some crops to sell?”

Pierre grinned, “Wonderful! Show me what you have!”

You placed the box on the ground and pulled out five freshly washed Parsnips. “It’s not much…”

“It’s fantastic! I mean, they are a little on the small side, but they look and smell delicious. Let me do some calculations and see what I can offer.”

After taking a few moments to talk shop, the two of you decided to swap your small harvest for some more seeds, but only after Pierre assured that you would be able to get at least a few more parsnip harvests this season. You placed the seeds in the box and smiled. It’s really happening. I grew vegetables and sold them. I’m really a farmer. The two of you eventually said your good-byes, but not before he told you all about the new rucksacks he would have arriving in the next few days.

----------

You spent the rest of the day getting your new seeds neatly sowed in two little rows, and finishing up some smaller tasks, before eventually making your way back into the house. Today would be game 4 of the Gridball season. The Tunnelers weren’t playing, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the game. You washed up and changed, then made your way over to the bar.

----------

As you made your way to your seat, you spotted a familiar looking blue jacket. You sat down and flagged over the bartender.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” you said, giving a small smile.

“Didn’t see you yesterday.” Shane took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

“Didn’t realize you’d miss me.” The waitress came over, and you ordered a hard cider.

Shane coughed slightly, and turned away. After a moment, he turned back to the screen, his body facing you slightly more than it was a moment ago. “I don’t know, missed is a very strong word.” He smirked, and continued sipping on his drink.

You raised your eyebrow and grinned. You turned your attention back to the Gridball game, sipping on your drink. “I sold my first batch of crops today.” You said, continuing to stare at the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not much. Just a few parsnips.”

“Ah.” He took another sip of his drink, also watching the screen. “Joja has me on overtime this week. The other stocker called out sick, so it’s just me.”

“Laaaaaaame.”

“Yeah. But it’s fine. I’m not going to complain about more beer money.”

You raise your drink towards him, “I can drink to that. That is one of the rough parts about being self-employed. No days off. I don’t work my ass off, I don’t get any money.”

The two of you continued to banter back and forth for the rest of the night, only half paying attention to the game. Mostly the conversion centered around work, Joja, and favorite drinks. Eventually the barkeep called for the last round of drinks. The two of you finished off one more round of beers before heading outside of the saloon.

Taking a few steps out of the door way, you stretched and looked up at the sky. Your eyes widened, and you took a shallow breath. Shane walked over to you, a nervous look on his face, “Everything okay?”

You continued to look up into the night sky, “Its.. its just been awhile since I’ve actually seen stars.”

Shane looked up, “Ah. I get it. I remember when I first moved out here. Hard to see the stars with all the light in the city.” You nodded, then looked over at him. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm as you watched him gaze at the stars. Eventually he glanced over at you, then coughed into his hand. “Anyway. I shouldn’t keep you.” He glanced around for a moment, “you’ll… you planning on swinging by the saloon tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “Probably. Once I get done with all my chores.”

Shane nodded. “Well.. Until then, I suppose.” But instead of leaving, he seemed to linger for a few moments.

“I look forward to it.” You smiled.

Shane reached up and rubbed the back of his head, looking away. “Uh. Yeah. See ya.”

You watched as he walked off.

“Hmm.. Curious,” you mused to yourself, before heading back home.

[wendyimmiller]

‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing.

So, it’s come to this.

As a nation, we are so starved for American garden programming that we are willing to accept that a woman worth over $620 million dollars, stuck for 82 days on her 153-acre estate in Bedford, NY; with her gardener, one of her housekeepers, and one of her drivers; and joined as needed by groundskeepers and their foreman, is going to fill that need and leave us hungry for another season of down-to-earth gardening advice.

So starved, that we are willing to accept HGTV promos that tell us that this immaculately dressed and fully made-up celebrity, sans sweat, sans grimy hands, and sans, apparently, a production assistant to create some small illusion of same, is relatable; and “puts the G back in HGTV.”

So starved, that we are willing to overlook her frequent – and historical – transposition of the pronouns “I” and “they” when discussing the nitty-gritty of projects undertaken on that 153-acre estate.

So. Starved.

Six episodes worth of gilded crumbs. And I’m afraid this gardener has lost her appetite.

It’s not about the money…

Perhaps the best way to launch into my review [and accompanying visual aids] of the first season of HGTV’s Martha Knows Best, (which I watched in its entirety after Susan’s recent review here) is to make it perfectly clear that I have no problem with the [legal] accumulation of wealth.

What wrestling a tiller really looks like.

I have no problem, as it were, with the wealthy.

You earned it. You spend it.  Martha Stewart is not just an extraordinary business woman, but a talented creative with an expert eye sharpened over many years.

She also has the genius to recognize, nurture, and promote that spark in other creatives.

If she insists that the 1000+ containers on her property be of the same color family (stone, concrete or marble), and never wishes to see an artistic vegetable in a flower arrangement, and lines utilitarian pathways to peacock enclosures with cut blocks of granite, who am I to criticize her from enjoying the whims that whacking great wads of cash can indulge?

I’ll have to tell my insanely talented friend Louisa Zimmermann-Roberts at Thanksgiving Farms in Frederick, MD, that her summer arrangement of Swiss chard, sweet pea, red raspberries, grapes eggplant, okra, chives, black-eyed peas and banana leaves is not officially sanctioned. She’s going to take it really well.

If I lived across the street as one of her “very many fancy neighbors” I would raise a glass to her abilities at the neighborhood block party, and conscientiously ask her advice when it came to pairing champagne and stemware for a well-lubricated celebrity crowd of twenty on a Saturday night.

I might even ask which echeveria to use in the tablescape.

Wickedly, I’d also try to tempt her hardworking gardener, Ryan McCallister, to cross the street and become my personal gardener.  My current gardener, Cutout Andy (though versatile and well-traveled), doesn’t have the same twinkle in his eye.

Cutout Andy and I discussing plans for the garden.

All this to say, I respect what she has achieved and have no desire to set up a mini-guillotine in the exquisitely designed cobblestone courtyard of her horse stables. I won’t even debate aspects of her gardening advice.  Susan did that already.

I also respect the fact that she is a 79-year-old woman who is a damn sight more active than your average 79-year-old American.

Let Them Eat Cake

What I don’t respect however, is this laughable attempt to appear ‘relatable’ as someone who is just like me, or like 99% of the gardening public.

I don’t respect the producers of this show having so little awareness of the current suffering going on throughout the country that they felt that a conspicuous display of fabulous wealth could feed the public’s very real (and in many cases, economic) need for gardening advice.

At a certain point it goes from being laughable, to being downright offensive. From the intro:

“I��ve lived on this farm for about 17 years. And like you I’m spending more time at home than ever before.  So I’m going to take you behind the scenes as I do my gardening projects. I’m going to help my celebrity friends. And surprise new gardeners.”

Here’s one of my gardening projects – Endlessly Weeding. On my knees. On my own. And I’m one of the lucky ones.

It must be horrific to spend 82 days on 153 acres. With a modified staff.

What about 82 days on a tenth of an acre (like my last house)?  What about 82 days in an apartment with a philodendron?

Uhhh….there’s a pandemic going on?

We have been six months at this pandemic.  After years in cramped quarters, I now live on ten beautiful acres in a four-bedroom house. And I’m ready to bury my husband’s work-from-home body in a remote corner of the property at this point.  It might even be classified as a COVID death.

And no doubt my husband feels the same way.

And yet, every evening of this mess, when I watch the news and see cities in such turmoil, I think of my 10×12′ apartment in New York, when I was 100% dependent on food service jobs and student loans to make my bills.

Each and every morning when I walk through the garden I think of our little upstairs flat in Southeast London when my son was a toddler, and how desperate I was for more than a window box and a few pots by the door.

My very first vegetable garden – a 2x17ft unpaved strip in the parking lot outside our tiny apartment in Southern California. (Photo from Big Dreams, Small Garden, 2017)

And each morning I am deeply grateful for the space around me, and painfully aware that others are struggling in this pandemic under terrible conditions with no end in sight.

No awareness from Hollywood apparently.  Or from Bedford.

“When the pandemic started and quarantine became de rigueur,” says Stewart, “I invited Ryan, my gardener, I invited Carlos, one of my drivers, and one of my housekeepers Elvira, to stay with me during this time.”

Quarantine.  De rigueur.  Alrighty then. So is a floor length gown at a debutante ball Martha. But okay, we’ll just go with it.

Lost in Translation

And if you didn’t study French in high school and are currently running to Google Translate – keep the tab open. To Martha, soil that is ready for planting does not resemble a palm full of pastry dough, but pâte brisée.

It’s actually an excellent analogy that falls short in its delivery. As does dropping mise en place to describe setting gardening tools in place for a project.

While you’re at it, you might want to check out  Île de la Cité, where Martha gets “all her seeds.”

No Chanel or Dior for this everyday gardener when she arrives in Paris, she tells us, but straight to those lovely little seed markets.

I didn’t want to bring Marie and her cake into this, but damn.

My husband and I on our way to the seed markets. Regrettably he had to drive us due to some staffing issues.

I remark upon these Gallicisms as someone with five years of French under her belt, a fair amount of experience in the kitchen and garden, and an unfortunate history of dropping sans into conversation, but a young, beginning American gardener doesn’t know her pâte brisée from her pot of ease-ay.

99.9% of low or middle-income gardeners are not jetting to Paris for their seeds and will probably see what’s available at local garden centers before they consider even splurging on shipping fees for online sources, no matter how wonderful they are.

I know I did.

And here. Here is the issue.  Pretending that this is a gardening show instead of a celebrity reality show.

The wonderful thing about Cutout Andy is that he is so incredibly portable.  Here he is on his way to help my mother in her garden in California.

Just Ask Martha

A few moments of FaceTiming Mitch in Lemoore, California about soil preparation for his carrots; or telling Maggie in Mississippi that she needs “ferns” for the north side of her shady house; or letting Karlin from Florida in on the not-so-little secret that she needs a coop for her ducks to keep them safe from predators; does not constitute ‘hanging with the little people.’

Especially after each performs the requisite sycophantic prelude before speaking to “the Gardening Queen Herself”

Maggie:  “I almost started crying but I did keep it together.”

And then there are the celebrity cameos.  Hailey Bieber needing dog grooming tips. Jay Leno showing us the kitchen in his garage and asking what a pomegranate is. Zac Posen telling Martha he’s been gardening since March in Bridgehampton.

“Well. It’s SOOO easy to garden in the Hamptons” she laughs.

I’ll just leave that right where it fell.

Cutout Andy taking a few moments away from digging out a new pathway to enjoy a warm tomato from my mother’s garden.

I made my life-long gardening mother watch two episodes with me.  When Martha begged Snoop Dogg to join her in Maine on her 63-acre estate, Skylands, for her next party post-COVID, Mom turned to me with a puzzled look on her face. “It’s like digging your heel into somebody’s face.” She said quietly.  “I’d be embarrassed to say that.”

Even if I gave millions of dollars to charities each year – as no doubt Martha does – I would too.

To his credit, a tee-shirted Richard Gere sat cross-legged and underneath a tree in his father’s average suburban garden where he grew up – even if they spent the entire time discussing the shade beds at his exclusive Relais & Châteaux establishment, The Bedford Post Inn.  He almost seemed a little embarrassed.

Perhaps we have his friendship with the Dalai Lama to thank for that.

She knows her stuff. But she’s forgotten her audience.

Martha’s smart. She’s exceptionally talented. She built an empire.

But she is not the person to put the G back in HGTV.

Those are people like Joe Lamp’l on Growing a Greener World, or Nan Sterman in A Growing Passion, or or down-to-earth influencers like Erin Schanen (www.impatientgardener.com) or Doug Oster (www.dougoster.com), or Ron Finley (www.ronfinley.com) who show you the trials, tribulations and glorious successes without the catchy music and celebrity friends.

Ron Finley of South Central L.A., an activist gardener who has changed thousands of lives by inspiring people living in the food deserts of inner cities to garden (Source: www.RonFinley.com)

For advanced gardeners who have yet to watch ‘Martha Knows Best,’ do. I’d like to know what you think.

But if you’re a brand-new gardener – look to the shows, feeds and podcasts of those who garden with the resources and in the region that you do. I guarantee you there are hundreds on YouTube.

Or, depart these shores altogether and take advantage of UK programming that still respects its population enough to provide polished and professional gardening programs to inspire everyday gardeners, such as Charlie Dimmock’s new endeavor, Garden Rescue, classic episodes of Ground Force, or Monty Don and others truly getting their hands dirty in BBC Gardener’s World. (Please leave your suggestions in the comments for excellent gardening programming in other parts of the world.)

Martha Knows Best is not a gardening show. It’s a celebrity reality show that takes place outside. And in the middle of a pandemic, when millions are out of work, businesses are shuttered, and large segments of the population are watching their future dreams for even a modest home and garden sabotaged by something completely out of their control, we deserve better.

Let’s hope HGTV digs a little deeper and finds it.

  ‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing. originally appeared on GardenRant on September 10, 2020.

The post ‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing. appeared first on GardenRant.

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[turfandlawncare]

‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing.

So, it’s come to this.

As a nation, we are so starved for American garden programming that we are willing to accept that a woman worth over $620 million dollars, stuck for 82 days on her 153-acre estate in Bedford, NY; with her gardener, one of her housekeepers, and one of her drivers; and joined as needed by groundskeepers and their foreman, is going to fill that need and leave us hungry for another season of down-to-earth gardening advice.

So starved, that we are willing to accept HGTV promos that tell us that this immaculately dressed and fully made-up celebrity, sans sweat, sans grimy hands, and sans, apparently, a production assistant to create some small illusion of same, is relatable; and “puts the G back in HGTV.”

So starved, that we are willing to overlook her frequent – and historical – transposition of the pronouns “I” and “they” when discussing the nitty-gritty of projects undertaken on that 153-acre estate.

So. Starved.

Six episodes worth of gilded crumbs. And I’m afraid this gardener has lost her appetite.

It’s not about the money…

Perhaps the best way to launch into my review [and accompanying visual aids] of the first season of HGTV’s Martha Knows Best, (which I watched in its entirety after Susan’s recent review here) is to make it perfectly clear that I have no problem with the [legal] accumulation of wealth.

What wrestling a tiller really looks like.

I have no problem, as it were, with the wealthy.

You earned it. You spend it.  Martha Stewart is not just an extraordinary business woman, but a talented creative with an expert eye sharpened over many years.

She also has the genius to recognize, nurture, and promote that spark in other creatives.

If she insists that the 1000+ containers on her property be of the same color family (stone, concrete or marble), and never wishes to see an artistic vegetable in a flower arrangement, and lines utilitarian pathways to peacock enclosures with cut blocks of granite, who am I to criticize her from enjoying the whims that whacking great wads of cash can indulge?

I’ll have to tell my insanely talented friend Louisa Zimmermann-Roberts at Thanksgiving Farms in Frederick, MD, that her summer arrangement of Swiss chard, sweet pea, red raspberries, grapes eggplant, okra, chives, black-eyed peas and banana leaves is not officially sanctioned. She’s going to take it really well.

If I lived across the street as one of her “very many fancy neighbors” I would raise a glass to her abilities at the neighborhood block party, and conscientiously ask her advice when it came to pairing champagne and stemware for a well-lubricated celebrity crowd of twenty on a Saturday night.

I might even ask which echeveria to use in the tablescape.

Wickedly, I’d also try to tempt her hardworking gardener, Ryan McCallister, to cross the street and become my personal gardener.  My current gardener, Cutout Andy (though versatile and well-traveled), doesn’t have the same twinkle in his eye.

Cutout Andy and I discussing plans for the garden.

All this to say, I respect what she has achieved and have no desire to set up a mini-guillotine in the exquisitely designed cobblestone courtyard of her horse stables. I won’t even debate aspects of her gardening advice.  Susan did that already.

I also respect the fact that she is a 79-year-old woman who is a damn sight more active than your average 79-year-old American.

Let Them Eat Cake

What I don’t respect however, is this laughable attempt to appear ‘relatable’ as someone who is just like me, or like 99% of the gardening public.

I don’t respect the producers of this show having so little awareness of the current suffering going on throughout the country that they felt that a conspicuous display of fabulous wealth could feed the public’s very real (and in many cases, economic) need for gardening advice.

At a certain point it goes from being laughable, to being downright offensive. From the intro:

“I’ve lived on this farm for about 17 years. And like you I’m spending more time at home than ever before.  So I’m going to take you behind the scenes as I do my gardening projects. I’m going to help my celebrity friends. And surprise new gardeners.”

Here’s one of my gardening projects – Endlessly Weeding. On my knees. On my own. And I’m one of the lucky ones.

It must be horrific to spend 82 days on 153 acres. With a modified staff.

What about 82 days on a tenth of an acre (like my last house)?  What about 82 days in an apartment with a philodendron?

Uhhh….there’s a pandemic going on?

We have been six months at this pandemic.  After years in cramped quarters, I now live on ten beautiful acres in a four-bedroom house. And I’m ready to bury my husband’s work-from-home body in a remote corner of the property at this point.  It might even be classified as a COVID death.

And no doubt my husband feels the same way.

And yet, every evening of this mess, when I watch the news and see cities in such turmoil, I think of my 10×12′ apartment in New York, when I was 100% dependent on food service jobs and student loans to make my bills.

Each and every morning when I walk through the garden I think of our little upstairs flat in Southeast London when my son was a toddler, and how desperate I was for more than a window box and a few pots by the door.

My very first vegetable garden – a 2x17ft unpaved strip in the parking lot outside our tiny apartment in Southern California. (Photo from Big Dreams, Small Garden, 2017)

And each morning I am deeply grateful for the space around me, and painfully aware that others are struggling in this pandemic under terrible conditions with no end in sight.

No awareness from Hollywood apparently.  Or from Bedford.

“When the pandemic started and quarantine became de rigueur,” says Stewart, “I invited Ryan, my gardener, I invited Carlos, one of my drivers, and one of my housekeepers Elvira, to stay with me during this time.”

Quarantine.  De rigueur.  Alrighty then. So is a floor length gown at a debutante ball Martha. But okay, we’ll just go with it.

Lost in Translation

And if you didn’t study French in high school and are currently running to Google Translate – keep the tab open. To Martha, soil that is ready for planting does not resemble a palm full of pastry dough, but pâte brisée.

It’s actually an excellent analogy that falls short in its delivery. As does dropping mise en place to describe setting gardening tools in place for a project.

While you’re at it, you might want to check out  Île de la Cité, where Martha gets “all her seeds.”

No Chanel or Dior for this everyday gardener when she arrives in Paris, she tells us, but straight to those lovely little seed markets.

I didn’t want to bring Marie and her cake into this, but damn.

My husband and I on our way to the seed markets. Regrettably he had to drive us due to some staffing issues.

I remark upon these Gallicisms as someone with five years of French under her belt, a fair amount of experience in the kitchen and garden, and an unfortunate history of dropping sans into conversation, but a young, beginning American gardener doesn’t know her pâte brisée from her pot of ease-ay.

99.9% of low or middle-income gardeners are not jetting to Paris for their seeds and will probably see what’s available at local garden centers before they consider even splurging on shipping fees for online sources, no matter how wonderful they are.

I know I did.

And here. Here is the issue.  Pretending that this is a gardening show instead of a celebrity reality show.

The wonderful thing about Cutout Andy is that he is so incredibly portable.  Here he is on his way to help my mother in her garden in California.

Just Ask Martha

A few moments of FaceTiming Mitch in Lemoore, California about soil preparation for his carrots; or telling Maggie in Mississippi that she needs “ferns” for the north side of her shady house; or letting Karlin from Florida in on the not-so-little secret that she needs a coop for her ducks to keep them safe from predators; does not constitute ‘hanging with the little people.’

Especially after each performs the requisite sycophantic prelude before speaking to “the Gardening Queen Herself”

Maggie:  “I almost started crying but I did keep it together.”

And then there are the celebrity cameos.  Hailey Bieber needing dog grooming tips. Jay Leno showing us the kitchen in his garage and asking what a pomegranate is. Zac Posen telling Martha he’s been gardening since March in Bridgehampton.

“Well. It’s SOOO easy to garden in the Hamptons” she laughs.

I’ll just leave that right where it fell.

Cutout Andy taking a few moments away from digging out a new pathway to enjoy a warm tomato from my mother’s garden.

I made my life-long gardening mother watch two episodes with me.  When Martha begged Snoop Dogg to join her in Maine on her 63-acre estate, Skylands, for her next party post-COVID, Mom turned to me with a puzzled look on her face. “It’s like digging your heel into somebody’s face.” She said quietly.  “I’d be embarrassed to say that.”

Even if I gave millions of dollars to charities each year – as no doubt Martha does – I would too.

To his credit, a tee-shirted Richard Gere sat cross-legged and underneath a tree in his father’s average suburban garden where he grew up – even if they spent the entire time discussing the shade beds at his exclusive Relais & Châteaux establishment, The Bedford Post Inn.  He almost seemed a little embarrassed.

Perhaps we have his friendship with the Dalai Lama to thank for that.

She knows her stuff. But she’s forgotten her audience.

Martha’s smart. She’s exceptionally talented. She built an empire.

But she is not the person to put the G back in HGTV.

Those are people like Joe Lamp’l on Growing a Greener World, or Nan Sterman in A Growing Passion, or or down-to-earth influencers like Erin Schanen (www.impatientgardener.com) or Doug Oster (www.dougoster.com), or Ron Finley (www.ronfinley.com) who show you the trials, tribulations and glorious successes without the catchy music and celebrity friends.

Ron Finley of South Central L.A., an activist gardener who has changed thousands of lives by inspiring people living in the food deserts of inner cities to garden (Source: www.RonFinley.com)

For advanced gardeners who have yet to watch ‘Martha Knows Best,’ do. I’d like to know what you think.

But if you’re a brand-new gardener – look to the shows, feeds and podcasts of those who garden with the resources and in the region that you do. I guarantee you there are hundreds on YouTube.

Or, depart these shores altogether and take advantage of UK programming that still respects its population enough to provide polished and professional gardening programs to inspire everyday gardeners, such as Charlie Dimmock’s new endeavor, Garden Rescue, classic episodes of Ground Force, or Monty Don and others truly getting their hands dirty in BBC Gardener’s World. (Please leave your suggestions in the comments for excellent gardening programming in other parts of the world.)

Martha Knows Best is not a gardening show. It’s a celebrity reality show that takes place outside. And in the middle of a pandemic, when millions are out of work, businesses are shuttered, and large segments of the population are watching their future dreams for even a modest home and garden sabotaged by something completely out of their control, we deserve better.

Let’s hope HGTV digs a little deeper and finds it.

  ‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing. originally appeared on GardenRant on September 10, 2020.

The post ‘Martha Knows Best’ Is Not Great. It’s Not Even a Good Thing. appeared first on GardenRant.

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