An old gentleman lived alone. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison.
The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament: “Dear Vincent, I am feeling pretty sad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa.”
A few days later he received a letter from his son.
“Dear Papa, Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where the bodies are buried. Love, Vinnie.”
At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologised to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.
“Dear Papa, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances.”
The manager of the garden centre overhears one of his workers talking to a customer.
“No, we haven’t had any of that in ages,” says the employee. “And I don’t know when we’ll be getting any more.”
The customer leaves and the manager walks over to give him a telling off. “Never tell a customer we can’t get them something,” he says. “Whatever they want we can always get it on order and deliver it. D’you understand?”
The nurseryman nods. “So what did he want?” asks the manager.
“Rain,” replies the worker.
Pete and Harry were talking one day. “My wife asked me to buy organic vegetables from the market garden,” said Pete.
“So were you able to find some?” Harry asked.
“Well when I got to the market, I asked the gardener, ‘These vegetables are for my wife. Have they been sprayed with any poisonous chemicals?'”
“The gardener answered: ‘No, you’ll have to do that yourself.'”