They’re especially nice in the moanin’ time all covered in dew and drippin' with juice. I’ll have to get out my cane and hike the back forty to fetch some field hands. These things must be handled very delicately. Only the small tender grip of a young child will suffice.
“Who will help me plant the seeds?”
“Who will help me grow the seeds?”
Old Miss’res Johnson down the road a piece will help me drink the Scuppernong wine that she makes. She’s busy stomping grapes now. Her legs stain up the most frightful shade of bronze.
She boils up some jars too fer the lesbian sharecroppers around the bend in the river to can up into pre-zerves. Aint nothing like homemade lesbian scuppernong jam fer breakfast.
Later in the day I plan to relax and twirl my parasol in a wicker swing that hangs from a Spanish moss laden live oak tree in front of my plantation. If you look real close you can see the rolling hills and the mighty Miss’ippi river meanderin’ in the distance. While the slaves serenade me to sleep with negro spirituals.
Walking the northeast corner of my plantation I was thrilled to find the squatters/sharecroppers producing bounty. A cornucopia to be presented at my harvest table reckoning.
Beware Poachers: Strange things happen when you play with the children in my cornfield.
Wanted: Scarecrow
Must have own clothes. Must be gaunt. Must be scary. Must work long hours. Must accept one ear of corn as payment per day.
Report to Human Resources at Pensacola Juvenile Department of Corrections.
I know, I know, another botanical post! Has Mean Dirty Pirate gone off his rocker? The answer is yes. I have but a few scant moments in time before the massive heat wave known as summer settles in and the wee little darling plant-lings will have to fend for themselves. Once the temps reach ninety the evisceration begins. So special care is given to provide them with everything they need before I take to the conditioned air for the rest of the season. Good luck to them all and I’ll see them in the fall.
It all leads to porn. Isn’t that always the case? Searching along for information about plantings and nurseries, I was appalled by the lack of gardening porn. How am I possibly going to endure a barrage of scientific terms like genus and species without a few pictures of scantily clad gardeners and hoers? It makes the bland information more digestible, more palatable, like a visual sorbet between shrubs and bushes.
In efforts to explain what a Scuppernong is to readers I researched it. So librarianish. Anyway the Scuppernong and in particularly the bronze Scuppernong is a muscadine. A grape that can be eaten right off of the vine or made into delicious jams and jellies or wine. I go for the wine but most usually eat them off of the vine while hamocking under the vineyard. Imagine my surprise to find Scuppernong soft core porn.
Tara Scuppernong Grape Vine (Male) 
Are Scuppernongs Tranny? What else could explain this picture accompanied by the title above? Google it! The description is even more baffling, “The (Male) Tara Scuppernong Grape Vine is cold hardy to 0*F. The Scuppernong grape from the (Male) Tara Scuppernong Grape Vine is large, tasty, bronze-colored, and is self pollinating.”
So my male bronze Tranny Scuppernong vine is named Tara? That explains a lot but the real clue wedged into this enlightening tidbit is the, ‘self pollinating’ clause which we all know is code for ‘Tranny’ oh and the fact that the (Male) Tranny grape is large and tasty.
More categories produced even more titillating erotic, exotic, soft core plant porn. Take a look at the Bamboo section and then flowering bulbs etc. I shall forever order all of my gardening needs from this place, thanks to Ty Ty nurseries for making my gardening pornier.
They all tell me the same story, “Mrs. Lawlis was always workin’ in her yard now!” I hear it from the ninety year old neighbors that surround me, I hear it from strangers that peddle up on a bike, I hear it from the grocer. “She kept that yard in pristine condition you know?” I hate hearing it. I’m beginning to hate strangers. I hate my grocer.
Mrs. Lawlis was the former owner of my estate and in particular she was the former horticulturalist who singlehandedly cultivated the botanical wonderland that comprises my ‘grounds’. I’m beginning to hate her too. Lest you think that I have been lax in my landscaping duty let me reassure that is not the case. The yard is gorgeous. It’s just that...well I’m not her. “She was always outside till midnight skewering magnolia leaves with this stick thing that had a pick on the end of it...” Enough! 
(Gloriosa Superba)
Yes, yes, yes, I am grateful to the old gal for leaving me such a grand legacy to work with BUT (and that’s an awfully big BUT) I’ve been in a constant state of conservancy where my lawn is concerned. It all started with hurricane Ivan, that bastard dumped enormous amounts of salt onto the Bermuda grass, he effectively killed the lawn. Katrina did her fair share of killing the following year plus the dozen or so tropical storms full of salt.
I affectionately refer to my homestead as Grey Gardens. The place was in dire shape when I purchased it but the garden...now the garden was the prize and six months after signing on the dotted line and Mrs. Lawlis was carted off to the Old Lady Home, we had hurricane Ivan. So I invariably receive the gasps that really when translated mean, “What the Hell happened here Edith Bouvier Beale?”
This Spring has been spectacular and the first year that has seen the fruits of my labor...literally. Everything is peeking out to see if it is safe to return. Easter lilies, Day lilies, Gloriosa Lilies, just all sorts of lilies really. The pecan trees have finally leafed out, “They’re always the last to do so, you know?” The huge scuppernong muscadine vineyard is going for the gold this year. I like to hang in the hammock underneath the vineyard on hot days and let the misting sprays work their magic, it’s like a cheap spa.
Oh and incidentally and totally unrelated but, Is there anyone left alive that was born in the 1800’s? In another year or so there won’t be and most of my wonderful old neighbors will be gone also. That should cut down on the helpful comments about my lawn and gardens.
