Beetroot you bastard. It's not that I don't appreciate you. I adore you, you know I adore you. I go out of my way to buy you. I willingly pay for you. How can I love you more than that? And when I get you home I put you into a red flannel hash. And it seems like we are friends. We are friends aren't we?
Then why won't you grow? I've tried all different varieties: Cylindra, Boltardy, White, Choggia, Detroit. And the best you can do is a minuscule swell and a frantic bolt. I get that you might not like the conditions on the balcony. I try to put you in the biggest pots but still it's hot and dry. I'm sorry that I sowed you at just the wrong time this year. I'm sorry that you germinated to be met by a freak and harsh frost.
I'll do better. I'll do anything. so when I do my autumn sowing won't you grow for me?
[This post was written as a response to the 10th prompt of Gayla Trail's Grow Write Guild. Check it out.]