5 Horrors of Gardening

I love a good horror movie. And sometimes I love a bad one too. Among my favorites are the slasher films of the ‘70s and ‘80s. They’re fun, usually not too scary, with a grit and feel that only the culture and film stock of that era could produce. At the top of the list of the best slasher films is the one that defined them all: Halloween.

No, I’m not one of these obsessive people that dresses up like Michael Myers or has T-shirts and bumper stickers with his face on them. That’s a little much. But Halloween is not just a perfect Halloween movie. From its clever storytelling in spite of a limited production budget, to its many nods to Hitchcock’s 1960 Psycho, to the many hurdles John Carpenter had to backflip over just to get the movie made—it’s a perfect movie. Period.

This weekend marks the 45th anniversary of Halloween’s original release. And so, like I do most years on October 31, I will probably rewatch the movie. Allie tolerates the tradition and joins in, though even she could recite most of the dialogue at this point. (“It was the Boogeyman.”)

With Halloween, and also gardening, on my mind, I got to thinking about the farm through the Mike Myers universe. It’s probably a stretch. But whatever. It’s Halloween. It’s fun. And everyone’s entitled to one good scare.

THE JUMP SCARE

Hornworms. Yuck. Now I’m OK with most insects and I know everything has a purpose in nature. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But hornworms are foul. I don’t like finding them and I don’t like touching them.

We got hornworms pretty bad this year in one of our caterpillar tunnels where we were growing some tomatoes. They devour the plants from the top-down. Some growers will take the time to pull these suckers off the plants one-by-one but we more or less left them alone. Other projects took priority and our main tomato crop was already thriving in the greenhouse.

Hornworms are masters at blending into foliage. When we did have to go into the tunnel to prune or trellis or harvest, the hornworms were there. Sitting. Waiting. Plotting. And then, right when you are reaching to pull a ripe grape tomato from its vine, right when you’re least ready for it... Bam! A hornworm falls into focus. Plump and menacing on a dangling leaf just inches from your face. Foul. Just foul.

GORE

We try to avoid this at all costs. Farm accidents are no joke, even on our small operation where heavy machinery rarely gets used. But even still, sometimes when I’m cleaning out debris from the tilther we use to prep beds for seeding, my mind can’t help but wander to a scene from Halloween H20: 20 Years Later.

The tilther has a rotary blade on it like a tiller. It doesn’t go as deep but it could still do some damage to a finger or two. I tell anyone who works with the tilther to disconnect the power source before cleaning it out. Do I do this every time myself? I’d be lying if I said yes.

In the Halloween H20 scene, Adam Hann-Byrd’s character is trying to retrieve a corkscrew from inside a sink’s garbage disposal with Mike Myers close by. Things don’t end well for Mr. Hann-Byrd and I should learn from his mistakes.

FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN

Why is the Michael Myers mask so scary? It is blank, empty and ambiguous. A blank slate that gives you nothing, so you project all your fears onto it.

That’s kind of like root vegetables, right? (Stay with me here.) Of all the vegetables we grow, root vegetables are the most mysterious to watch mature. You can’t see what’s going on with your carrots under the soil so you worry. Are the roots hitting compaction? Is something eating holes into their skin? Is there rot or rust?

A lot of times you don’t know until you harvest. Scary stuff.

SUSPENSE

Farming is delayed gratification. You plant, you tend, you wait. Days to maturity might as well be renamed suspense. A suspense we choose.

Think about the opening scene in Halloween. You know the one. It’s the point of view of young Michael Myers walking through his house on his way to kickstart a lifelong career in murder. It’s tense and unnerving. Time stands still as you watch it play out, hoping for the best but fearing for the worst. That is farming in a nutshell.

THE SUPERNATURAL

Michael Myers is not human. He’s beyond human. An excerpt from a monologue by his handler, Dr. Loomis, declares: “I realized that what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... evil.”

The closest thing to the supernatural in farming: Mother Nature. She is great and she is fierce. Of her many gifts—sun, rain, soil—wind is tricky. It scares me.

Wind can knock down top-heavy plants, break stems, destroy structures, and make for a long, hard day’s work. A breeze is pleasant, beneficial and welcomed. But wind, real cruel wind, is purely and simply evil.

Happy Halloween, everyone! Steer clear of the Boogeyman.

—John