Despite appearances, this only looks incredibly greedy:
1. Two weeks more of spring and autumn. Three days of spring and 8.5 hours of autumn are just not enough. To demonstrate my restraint in this request, I’m not even going to complain about our weeklong summer.
2. Moose that eat bears and bears that eat stray dogs, cats, and moose. The fewer mammals pillaging my veggie patch, the better. And one more fecal present from the local pets, unearthed whilst I am working the soil barehanded, and I won’t be responsible for my code red response.
3. A tomato/pepper/(fill in difficult-to-grow-in-Alaska vegetable here) that goes from seed to ripe fruit in oh, say, four weeks. Is that so much to ask, Santa?
4. Tools that (much like the elves surprised the shoemaker in the morning with assembled footwear) sharpen themselves overnight. A couple of out of work elves would do nicely. They can live under my bed between the fire escape ladder, rifle case, and Tyrannosaurus-sized dust bunnies. Cozy!
5. Some electrified fencing, in case number two isn’t workable.
6. Another blue tarp. That was a joke, Santa. (I was going more for deep belly laugh, rather than outright shock, dearest Santa, so apologies if my humor was unfunny.) Would it be too much to ask if you would, for the sake of beauty, neighborly relations (see picture), and peace on earth, please replace all those blue tarps with brown ones?
7. Catalogs for seed/plant companies that actually ship to our forsaken state. We are part of mainland America. This fact seems to have escaped the notice of some mail order companies. I’ve received calls from nurseries telling me sadly, after I’ve placed an order, that “we don’t ship to Alaska.”
“But your catalog says you ship to the U.S. and Canada.”
Well, that grieves me, Santa. Were we, or were we not, granted statehood in 1959? And more importantly, I really need that rare grass/heather/salvia/what-have-you and it’s just not to be found here in old A.K. I’m sure Hawaiian gardeners know how I feel. They are nursery shipping outcasts as well. Aloha!
8. Plants that repel politicians and door-to-door salespeople. I’d place a few (OK, twenty) on my front porch. Don’t say red geraniums already do that, Santa, that’s just an urban garden legend. And Santa, the plant has to let Girl Scouts selling cookies through. I love the Thin Mints and the Samoas, which you must admit, dear sir, are heaven in a manufactured food item. One final note: the plant should be absolutely toxic to men peddling magazines.
9. A perfume that, when spritzed into the breeze, carries itself to the nearest non-gardening neighbors, and infects them with a rabid desire to not only beautify their property with plantings, but to haul off the rusted-out snow machines and ancient truck on blocks. I’m still mulling over ideas on a name for this miraculous scent. How about we go halvesies on the patent, Santa?
10. This one is a grab bag, Santa, you pick: a spare pair of felcos, pair of well-made wellies in (gulp) purple or green, lumber for a fence, or new garden gloves.
I have been a good gardener, you can check your list twice! (Just stick to your naughty/nice list and avoid the police blotter and certain of my relatives and we’re golden.)
The Last Frontier Gardener
What’s on your list?