I Am A Peanut Farmer

A fun thing, when you’re trying to grow things, is seeing what might decide to grow, that pretty much has nothing to do with you, and your sweet amusing gentle intentions.

Here, I have to, daily, feed the squirrels and the jays. The favorite let there befood of each, both, is peanuts. So, every day, I slather the brick rail, with said nuts.

Many things, here, I would like to grow, but they die on the vine; never come up; are chewed back to nothingness by invisible insects; are thrown out of their holes by raccoons; are slob-hooved trampled by deer; are just too frightened and depressed to even much try to grow.

But then, there are peanuts. I have not planted even one of these. They are not supposed to even grow here. But the jays and the squirrels—in their world, some of the peanuts you eat; some you bury.

The bury peanuts. Are now busting out all over. They are boldly, bravely, sprouting, in every nook and cranny, here on the grounds of the Manor. More, I find, every day. And I am bringing them along. I did not plant them. But I am, now, a peanut farmer.

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1 Response to “I Am A Peanut Farmer”


  1. 1 Elva June 13, 2014 at 5:50 am

    So glad that something is surviving in your garden. Remember the fresh peanuts you bought, years ago, at Chico,s farmers market? Very interesting!!!


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