'We've got only weeks to start a garden' the old woman wailed. 'But my hands have arthritis and my back hurts - and old Ben down the lane is in a wheelchair and what is he meant to do?'. She slammed her tea down hard on the table, splashing it over the tablecloth which was covered in pretty dandelions. Her two teenage grandchildren were here to help. Their mother was at work.
'It's okay', the younger woman reassured, patting the wrinkled hand gently. 'There's a job for everyone. We were actually wondering if you could share your recipe for beetroot soup? We heard you used to make it for your family all the time. Perhaps you could contribute that way?'
The old woman blinked and moved to her dresser, pulling out a book of handwritten recipes. 'I do. And there's a recipe for rosehip wine here too. Would that count?". She was worried, like many of them who didn't like change. But dissent had been quietly squashed. She stifled at giggle at her own garden vegetable joke.
Her granddaughter opened up the leaflet left by the Garden Fascist party, which wasn't their name for their organisation, but it's what everyone called them. Someone had graffitied a Hitler-esque moustache on the gardener who smiled on the front image, and scribbled the words: "Blooming under tyranny: Our garden, their rules.". She handed them a fresh copy and took the other.
'Everyone must have a garden' came the dictate only six months ago. The reaction from the people was kneejerk, reactionary, and horrified. What about the old and infirm? What about those who didn't have any backyards to speak of? What about those who wouldn't know the first thing about growing anything more than mould in a teapot?
'Yes, Gran. It's on the list!'. She read out the Participation notes to her grandmother for the sixth time that week. Poor Gran's memory wasn't what it was. She skipped the ones that were too wordy or didn't apply to her, like
1A. 'A community leader must be assigned per every 20 households to organise the garden, establish rosters, and ensure every citizen contributes'.
2B 'If a garden is not possible in some residences, please contact your council for nearby parkland, disused sites, rooftops or other available land for use by the community'.
6F. 'If soil is contaminated or unavailable, other methods suchs as aquaponics, hydroponics, wicking beds or other growing methods can be employed.'
'Yes - that one - ' the Garden Community Leader (which some people had already shortened to the GL, and behind her back, the 'Gardenator', the 'Garden Czar' and 'Her Green Majesty', which she secretly liked. She had a good sense of humour and didn't mind - for now.) 'The maths teacher from the top floor has been researching that one extensively, and he's already ordered the materials. A team's cleared the rooftop ready for the containers to arrive and we'll be functional in a fortnight!'. The Gardenator was clearly the right person for this role - she was enthusiastic, excited and had a 'can do' attitude. All she had to do was reassure everyone they had a part to play.
She had even written a title for the leaflet: "Green Thumb Revolution: Empowering Gardens, Empowering People". She liked it, until someone had started distributing counter propaganda, with titles such as "Plantocracy: Growing control, pruning dissent." and or "Green thumbs, red regime: Growing under dictatorship.". Cute, she thought. They'd come around in the end. Many already had - the permacuturalists, horticultarists, mycologists and so on. Why not dictate everyone gets their hands dirty? Most of the problems of the world could be solved by putting seeds in soil.
Clearly, this was going to be tricky. The grandson had a t-shirt that read "Totalitarian gardening: Where flowers fear to bloom." She pretended not to see it. She had noticed the car bumper stickers on Granny's SUV. The letters 'The iron spade: Crushing opposition, nurturing compliance.' circled around a swastika made of garden tools. Clever.
'Sounds - fun?' the young girl said. Some young people were already into it, but some had yet to be convinced. The girl's boyfriend was keen as he realised that he'd be supported to grow cannabis, as that was part of the 'medicinal plant' farm that he'd enrolled in. People could elect to be part of their local communities or travel to other districts to be part of community Medicinal Plant farms. He was much keener on that than growing lettuce.
7A. 'If people are not able to contribute physically, they might choose other non physical roles like research, education, organising rosters, and so on. A full list of duties is supplied at wwww.gardensforeveryone.com'.
'That's you Gran', she said, and quickly looked up the list on her phone, scanned through until she found the right point. 'Older people, for example, might take on a community education role by sharing recipes for harvest or cooking for the workers on Garden Days'.
Garden Days were once a month, where everyone must attend to the garden without exception. But everyone had a certain amount of hours they had to log every week - a minimum. The GL had already heard of garden communities where people were logging far more hours than they thought they would to start. It made them happy and gave them a sense of purpose, so why not?
Already, the food supply had improved to the area. People were talking about how good it was to grow their own food, and how satisfying it was. The early adopters were already harvesting. They had more money in their weekly budget and many were reporting that they felt better, both mentally and physically. For once, the GL thought, it was a government iniative she could support, heart and soul, though it wasn't an initiative as such - more like a dictatorship.
It was the government's response to a developing food crisis, poor mental health across the country, appalling diets, and dwindling fuel supplies that made transport off fresh food almost impossible.
The price for non conformity? Well, human beings make for good blood and bone fertiliser. She'd already thought of her own bumper sticker. "Harvesting obedience: Where dissent meets the compost." she cheerfully sang as she left. They didn't know if she was serious, but it sure sounded that way.
The grandchildren began to lighten the mood by goosestepping around the loungeroom, and in thick German accents shouted: 'Resist, and you shall be shallot!' and 'You cannot BEET the authorities!' so loudly the GL could hear them as she trotted to her car.
This response was written for the Hive Creative Garden challenge which comes out on the 15th of every month. You only have about three days to enter. This entry doesn't qualify but I thought I'd have a go myself!
Images by me and Midjourney
Well, I was gonna make some beet smoothie thing. This certainly puts things into a different perspective xD I love the light/dark tone here. And I love the thought that everyone can somehow contribute<3
Hahah I had a blast doing something different.
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The idea of garden totalitarianism may sound far fetched, but there are plenty of examples in history in which what sounded far fetched became a reality. Take the one-pot meal in Nazi Germany, for instance. Households were expected to cook a one pot meal with the week's left-overs on Sundays. This sounds good, doesn't it? This way food doesn't go to waste, and you save a few pennies. Oh, by the way, given that you saved some pennies then perhaps you wouldn't mind donating the money you saved to help your fellow Germans. No exceptions. A nail was then put on the Nazi wooden shield on your door to let others know that you had already contributed and how much. Your story made me think of this. It is complex and you capture the overly rigid mindset of a fascist/communist garden dictatorship. The garden of hell is seeded with good intentions.
Yes! And I love that example. Even if it seems a good idea IN THEORY - it's bound to end up with bodies in the compost and shaking in your boots because you didn't make the quota.
very creative and very memorable story @riverflows
thanks @maytom!
🤣🤣🤣 love the garden puns maybe that should be the third prompt this month haha
I had a blast writing it, it was really making me laugh! Laughing at my own jokes of course...
LOL ,. if a dictator , or dystopian controlled society arises with exactly all i wish for to have a good life ,. i will not comply , i will not consent . For i know where it always ends ,..
I hope besides fiction this was comedy to ?
And no need to compost me , lots of gardening going on .
Trying 3 types of hops at 57 degrees north longitude , it's creeping up the ropes .
Doing medicinal and foods , so hail to the Gardenator !
May this free man do some free trade for that special fertilizer she plans to make .
;-)
Hahaha of course it was comedy - I was laughing as I wrote it! Had a blast.
I mean, it sounds like a great idea in principle, but dictatorship is never the answer.
The world will become a better place if everyone have garden and will be busy gardening.
As long as no one gets punished for NOT having a garden!
This is great. I love this story. So clever!!! So funny! I want a t-shirt that says "her green majesty." Fabulous images too!
Thankyou! How good would that tee-shirt be? Maybe I should do them 🤣
Your story was very beautiful, it made me remember my grandmother, besides, I felt like making myself a beet smoothie, I really like that smoothie, although I don't have beets right now. Those images you created were very nice. On the other hand, those images you created were very nice. Thanks for sharing your story @riverflows. Happy day 😊.
I'm glad you enjoyed it. That's sweet of you.
Dystopian reality, and gardening? I am in! My 2 favorite subjects 👍😆 Sorry I'm not around much, but I love finding gems like these. I love your prompts for midjiurney too, good job!
Thanks so much! Yeah I struggle to catch up with everyone too. I had fun with this one.