A Noise! A howl in the storm! Something crashed… going out into the dark to check – or stay inside and hope for the best? - that is the question…. But —

Must make sure all is right….

The old Scarecrow is standing stiffly by the shed, claiming his costume is "Vintage Farmer. - Deeply Disturbed by the Noise" – but he just wants the music turned down. 

Big and little pumpkins wiggled in their bins, trailers full of winter squash shifting anxiously, waiting for their ride home — eager for praise of size, color, and taste. “I’m the best,” claimed one pumpkin. “No, me!” argued another, while the squashes chuckled quietly. Collards rolled their eyes at the drama,

🥔 Potatoes are rumored ready, though suspected of plotting pranks. They hold secret meetings underground, whispering: “Wait until the humans dig and find nothing!” When their tops go brown—like onions—that’s the “all clear.” Supposedly. We’ll see if it’s harvest or ambush.

“Something exploded… but don’t worry, just a tiller engine 🛠️💨.”

Welcome to another edition of Row Gossip, where we serve you vegetables with all the dirt 🌱😉
 Pull up a seat and peek through the leaves with vegetables, whispers, and a little field mischief 🍅🥕🧅

Carrots have been spotted plotting bad hair days again. If your bunch looks like it got in a fight with a garden gnome, just smile and slice—flavor remains impeccable. You’ve been warned.

🍅 Tomatoes are blushing.
We suspect they’ve overheard too much gossip from the dill patch. There aren’t many just yet, but we’re including them. Treat them gently—they're feeling tender and dramatic.

How hot is it? Hot enough to pop a tractor tire.
(Yes, it was an old one, but still—the heat ballooned it, and that was that.)
The pickle patch saw the whole thing and hasn't stopped whispering since.

The green beans have ripened early and will not stop talking about it. They’re parading around like they’ve cracked some kind of growth code. “We’re efficient,” they say, tossing vines over their neighbors like feather boas.

As for the temperatures… who’s working the thermostat? A bored weather spirit with a yo-yo? One day it’s flannel, the next it’s flip-flops. Great if you like variety. Less so for plants with preferences. Thankfully, some of our crops are less dramatic and just keep growing.

The butterhead has begun drafting a formal complaint.
One red leaf was spotted inching toward the shade, muttering something
about bolting if things don’t change.

The soil is ready, the weather warm.
We choose plants and seeds for the future—
with care,
with intention.

It evokes a feeling …
  deep as the soil,