No sooner than I reminded the world of my fondness for gardening-related gifts did I receive a box full of perhaps the most legit gear ever to arrive at Panthy’s Garden.

My friend Craig over at Garrett Wade sent three jammies, a British Army Knife, a Professional Gardener’s Digging Tool and a Dutch Hand Cultivator. I won’t lie, my first impulse was to find something immediately and impale it. Turns out, a tissue box got the business end of the Digging Tool. Effective.

The Army Knife is made in Sheffield, England, the UK’s answer to Pittsburgh I’m told. It’s simple, roundish, and looks like it could live well in a pocket, unlike my Leatherman which is like having a giant heavy metal rectangle in your pocket. That’s heavy and metal, not Heavy Metal.

It’s got a can opener, a spike and a straight blade. I originally thought the spike was for impaling an enemy but the website says it’s for rope work. Rope work. I need to use more ropes now. It’s beautiful and simple. (And it can handle rope work.)

The name “Professional Gardener’s Digging Tool” is really a kind way of saying Garden Impaler. It comes with a scabbard if that tells you anything. It’s got a serrated edge, a very pointy tip and if I could guess, was probably originally used in the trenches of WWI. The only thing missing are some brass knuckles over the handle. 

I put it to work breaking up the soil blob that is the dirt from last season’s planters. This is what a sub-irrigated planter looks like dumped out. 

The digging tool was so effective that I accidentally punched a hole right through the side of the container. Guess my stabbing was a little too vigorous. Good news is, it made very short work of loosening the compacted dirt. I almost felt like it needed a more worthy foe.

Its pointy tip was precise enough to scoop up these mystery grubs, which no doubt, will blossom into some horrible insect that will destroy my crops. With a quick flip of the wrist, those squirming horrible creatures were sent sailing over the railing to the street below. 

The Dutch Hand Cultivator sounds, well, cultivated. But it’s no bullshit design is completely hand made and it’s actually a bit scrappy looking. Its solid construction gives the impression that it will be around for perhaps longer than my garden or me, maybe winding up in the Brockland Center for Historical Studies in the year 2962. ”Hipster Garden Tool - c. 2012”

It’s great at raking around dirt and pulling out large root clumps. I found it nice for spreading precious compost with the round side, or generally fussing up the dirt with the sharp side. 

I suspect that once a man has tools like this, he becomes dependent on them. The tools become an extension of the man himself even! And naturally, he winds up getting a giant, corny belt to hold them all. Guess I’ll see if those guys have a belt. 

So… an 86 year-old man fell on his gardening shears, which then lodged into his eye socket. I know, I know… I’m sorry you had to see this.

Quoted in the Tuscon Sentinel, the doctor used a poor choice of phrasing to describe the injury: 

“You wouldn’t believe your eyes. Half of the pruning shears was sticking out and the other half was in his head.” 

It all turned out fine, the gardener got the shears removed from his face and he was able to keep his sight, his life, and presumably the shears. The lesson here? Keep an eye on those shears! Wuh wah. Read the full article.

Looking at my crappy garden tools fills me with a tinge of rage, nevermind when I’m actually trying to do something with them. Now, looking at tools I could have… fills me with great excitement; nerdy, unattractive, old lady gardener excitement.

After complaining about my trowel, I received a healthy amount of advice. Most of it was along the lines of “Hey dummy, don’t buy crappy tools next time.” I’m already well aware of how dumb I am and make an effort to document it regularly.

Aside from that, I did get some good info on where and what to buy next time. That next time is right now. Enter the Dewit Garden Hand Shovel all the way from the Netherlands. Sounds snooty right? Well, if you know your New York City history, it also sounds downright COLONIAL which is an entire level of pretension up from snooty.

The Dutch ruled over this city for hundreds of years, farming, getting drunk and brutalizing the natives, and “brutalizing” is probably being a bit too kind. Even the name Brooklyn (anglicized from Breukelen) came from the Dutch, loosely translating to tough borough of composting yuppies.

Now safely relegated to their bike-riding utopia over the Atlantic, the Dutch have been able to focus their ample free time making high quality garden implements like this trowel. Made by a “century-old” family (which sounds problematic with all the shouting and arthritis) this trowel has both an ash wood handle and a lifetime warranty. Perfect. I just want something to leave my grandkids.

It’s sold online by the fancy pants Kaufmann Mercantile. While it was hard to resist the Deerskin Work & Garden Gloves, or the Estwing Camping Hatchet, I limited my spree to the Barnel Garden Pruner and the DeWit Garden Hand Shovel.

I’m already feeling bad that I’ve bought tools that have names for their names. But beyond their shiny exterior it seems that these are some truly well-made, solid implements. If, for some reason they are not, I will build a frigate with a hundred guns and sail that shit straight to the Netherlands.

There are disadvantages to city gardening, like having to shop at my local hardware store. Imagine the entire industrial output of China piled onto shelves 12 feet high and in no particular order. Where there should be hardware, there are only mountains of plastic things, a funny detergenty smell and a surplus of fake blue Crocs, barely worth their weight in off-gas. But still, this is where I bought my first garden tools.

A fake watch I get, but who makes and sells a knock off HOSE? And who buys it? Me. And because I loved the hose so much I went ahead a bought a trowel that BENDS in the dirt.

So why would I shop here? Because it’s close. If I could have them deliver crappy tools I would. It’s why we live in the city in the first place: to have everything delivered.

And as much as I hate them for selling junk, they also sell things like Panthy. I might rip on overseas manufacturers of shitty products, but there’s just not a factory in the United States that would make a straw-boned, vinyl(?)-wrapped black panther that biodegrades on air contact. Forget factory, there’s not an American MIND that would conceive of it! So there’s that.

But I do have one request: I want a quality tool to garden with. I want a trowel that’s going to be hard at work dividing hostas in 30 years. I want it to be the subject of a boring article that I beam to your digicaptoid in 2041 that you subsequently hide from your mental feed. And I’d like you to know that I will happily supply you with my mailing address if you’re serious about buying one for me. I’d like it delivered.