Echuca - Shepparton - Plant Farm

21/09/2026

PEOPLE KEEP ASKING ME ABOUT THIS FRIDAY…

And apparently there are only two questions anyone really cares about.

1. Did Eddy find true love after I publicly advertised him like a second-hand Hilux with low kilometres and a full service history?
2. Are both Plantfarm stores open this Friday for the public holiday?

Well…

YES.

To one of them.

Actually, bu**er it… YES TO BOTH.

We are OPEN all long weekend.

And more importantly…

OUR HUGE 3-DAY INDOOR PLANT SALE STARTS FRIDAY.

FRIDAY 9–4
SATURDAY 9–4
SUNDAY 9–4

Both Echuca and Shepparton.

Now, before half of you start asking what happened with Eddy after my last post, here’s the quick recap.

Eddy is one of those proper old-school truck drivers.

Drives all week.
Sleeps wherever the truck tells him.
Lives on servo coffee strong enough to remove paint.

And after my last post I may have accidentally turned myself into his dating agent.

Ladies were asking questions.

People wanted updates.

I had basically become Tinder with a black floppy hat.

So did Eddy find true love?

Nup.

He’s still available.

Although I did discover he has a fairly committed relationship with about ten dim sims from his favourite servo.

So ladies…

if you love a shirt carrying the heavy scent of soy sauce, a bloke who spends more time in a truck than a lounge room, and a man who apparently likes a good cuddle…

Eddy is about to come back to town.

And no…

it’s not JUST for the dim sims.

It’s because I rang him.

“Hey Eddy mate… you know that monster load of indoor plants you brought down?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s bloody gone.”

“So whatever you’re doing, turn that truck around and bring me ANOTHER ONE.”

Because this Friday we kick off our HUGE 3-DAY INDOOR PLANT SALE…

and I want both stores absolutely overflowing.

I’m talking indoor plants everywhere.

On benches.

On floors.

Up walls if Brett stops looking for five minutes.

If there’s a spare square metre in either nursery by Friday morning, somebody hasn’t done their bloody job.

So Eddy is loading up again.

Another monster truckload.

Another run back to Echuca.

Another servo stop.

Probably another ten dim sims.

And hopefully enough indoor plants to get us through three absolutely ridiculous days.

Because if the last load disappearing taught me anything…

you lot have a problem.

And apparently that problem is indoor plants.

One isn’t enough.

Three becomes five.

Then suddenly you’re standing in your lounge room moving furniture around because the Monstera “needs better light”.

And your partner’s asking:

“Craig said they were on sale, didn’t he?”

Correct.

Blame me.

So this is your warning.

HUGE 3-DAY INDOOR PLANT SALE.

STARTS THIS FRIDAY.

FRIDAY 9–4
SATURDAY 9–4
SUNDAY 9–4

ECHUCA PLANT FARM
13–15 Northern Hwy, Echuca

SHEPPARTON PLANT FARM
535 Archer Rd, Kialla

Both stores loaded.

Both stores open all long weekend.

And somewhere on the highway right now is Eddy…

shirt smelling faintly of soy sauce…

truck loaded with indoor plants…

still single…

and wondering how the hell a bloke delivering plants ended up with his love life advertised to nearly 40,000 people.

Sorry mate.

Now keep driving.

We need the bloody plants. 😂

See you all at Shepparton and Echuca

❤️ 535 Archer Rd Kialla

❤️ 13-15 Northern Hwy Echuca

20/09/2026

KATE SAID YES.

Which, if you know Kate, means I’ve now got about 30 days to turn a perfectly normal building into something I probably described with far too much enthusiasm. 😂

So the clock starts NOW.

On October 31st, we’re opening something completely new at our Echuca store…

THE POTTER’S SHED.

And I don’t want it to be just another room with pots lined up against a wall.

I want it to be a place people actually want to stay.

What was once a car yard showroom, an office and a design studio is about to get another life.

A big one.

A little darker.
A little moodier.
A lot more beautiful.

Think old timber tables.
Beautiful pots.
Plants everywhere.
Homewares you definitely didn’t come in for but somehow leave carrying.

You know the ones…

“I only came in for potting mix.”

Forty-five minutes later you’re standing at the counter with a ceramic duck, two pots, a candle, a plant you can’t pronounce and absolutely no memory of what happened.

That’s the vibe.

But The Potter’s Shed is going to be more than somewhere to shop.

We want to create a place to gather.

A place where garden clubs can meet.

A place where a group of friends can pull up a chair, have a coffee and talk gardens.

A place where you can sit down with Craig and ask plant questions…

…or after five minutes politely say,

“That’s enough thanks Craig, we were actually hoping for some peace.”

Fair.

There’ll be tables and chairs tucked around the verandah, inspired by those beautiful European garden centres where apparently people know how to stop for five minutes instead of tearing through life at 100km/h.

Sit down.

Have a coffee.

Look around.

Talk plants.

Meet someone.

Or say absolutely nothing and enjoy the garden.

We’re also planning a little garden library, filled with gardening books and a local book swap, because somehow in a world where everything is on a screen, sitting in a garden flicking through an old gardening book still feels pretty bloody good.

And yes…

There will be new homewares, pots, gifts and garden pieces arriving constantly.

Which means this might also be your warning that Christmas shopping at Plantfarm officially becomes dangerous from October 31st.

Now here’s where I need your help.

This idea has been rattling around in my head for a long time.

Kate has approved it.

The locals I’ve quietly mentioned it to have given it the thumbs up.

And I’ve already opened my mouth and announced an opening date…

So there’s no backing out now. 😬

OCTOBER 31ST

ECHUCA POTTER’S SHED OPENS.

Thirty days.

No pressure whatsoever.

Just renovate an entire showroom, build the displays, find the furniture, fill it with beautiful things and create something Echuca doesn’t really have yet.

Easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

And Shepparton, before you start typing…

“WHAT ABOUT US CRAIG?”

Your turn is coming.

Our plans there are actually even bigger, but bigger plans mean bigger approvals and unfortunately I’ve discovered councils don’t accept drawings done on the back of a potting mix receipt.

The Shepparton master plan includes a new garden café, new Potter’s Shed spaces, new indoor areas and Craig’s Purpose Gardens, a whole area designed around one simple idea:

A PLACE TO GATHER AND GROW.

There’s a lot happening behind the scenes in our little family business.

And there’s a reason for it.

We’ve got 30-plus people who come to work with us, and Kate and I want to keep building a business that gives them somewhere exciting to work, gives our towns something different and gives all of you another reason to support local.

So Echuca…

The countdown starts today.

October 31st.

The doors open on The Potter’s Shed.

Garden groups, plant tragics, homeware hunters, coffee drinkers, book swappers and people who simply need somewhere beautiful to wander around pretending they’re “just having a look”…

We’ll see you there.

And Kate…

Thanks for saying yes.

You’ve got roughly 30 days before you start regretting it. 😏

ECHUCA PLANT FARM
📍 13–15 Northern Hwy, Echuca

SHEPPARTON PLANT FARM
📍 535 Archer Rd, Kialla

The Potter’s Shed. Opening October 31st.
A place to browse. A place to meet. A place to gather. A place to grow.

19/09/2026

19/09/2026

IT’S Lonely Sunday… AND SOME OF YOU ARE ABOUT TO MAKE A TERRIBLE DECISION. ❤️🌳

Or did you already?

You know how it goes.

Friday night.

Couple of drinks.

You open Tinder “just for a look”.

Next thing you know you’re swiping like your thumb owes you money.

Too tall.

Too needy.

Too much baggage.

Profile says “low maintenance” but you can already tell that’s complete bu****it.

Then suddenly…

BANG.

There it is.

A profile that makes you stop.

Good looking.

Smells incredible.

Likes the outdoors.

Australian.

Low maintenance.

Enjoys long days in full sun.

Doesn’t mind a bit of heat.

And apparently…

likes being rubbed.

Well.

That escalated quickly.

😂

Welcome to TREE TINDER.

And today’s match might actually be worth taking home.

MEET CORYMBIA ‘SCENTUOUS’

The Dwarf Lemon Scented Gum.

Now I know what happens next.

You zoom in on the photos.

Check the height.

Read the bio twice.

Look for red flags.

Because nobody this attractive can possibly be this easy to live with.

But Scentuous actually stacks up.

Evergreen.

Beautiful narrow foliage.

Smooth attractive bark.

Creamy flowers.

And that famous Lemon Scented Gum fragrance…

without growing into the bloody enormous version that eventually owns your house, your neighbour’s yard and three suburbs either side.

This one stays around 5–7 metres tall, making it a much more realistic match for the average backyard.

Already sounding suspiciously good.

Then comes the first date.

You wander over.

Bit nervous.

Reach out.

Rub the leaves.

Have a sniff.

And there it is.

LEMON.

Fresh, unmistakable lemon.

Which means somewhere along the line my nursery business has become a place where I encourage grown adults to…

walk up to something attractive…

give it a rub…

smell their fingers…

and decide whether they’d like to take it home.

I probably should’ve thought this Tree Tinder idea through a little more.

😂

THE BIO

Name: Scentuous

Height: About 5–7 metres mature

Body type: Slim, upright, tidy

Looking for: Something long-term

Love language: Full sun

Turn-ons: Well-drained soil, warm weather, a bit of space

Turn-offs: Wet feet, soggy holes and clingy gardeners

Special talent: Smells like lemon when you rub the foliage

Drama level: Low

Baggage: Comes in a pot

Relationship history: Prefer not to discuss previous owners

Now for the important bit.

FIRST DATE RULES

Don’t take Scentuous somewhere dark and miserable.

This tree wants full sun.

Don’t stick it in a boggy corner either.

Well-drained soil keeps the relationship healthy.

Give it decent water while it establishes.

Then once settled…

back off a little.

Scentuous handles dry conditions pretty well once established and doesn’t need you standing there every morning whispering:

“Are we okay?”

That’s a green flag right there.

Actually…

there are a few.

GREEN FLAGS

✅ Smells bloody good
✅ Looks good all year
✅ Australian native
✅ Handles heat well once established
✅ Doesn’t need constant attention
✅ Doesn’t ghost you
✅ Doesn’t lie about height
✅ Doesn’t message “u up?” at 1:47am
✅ Will happily stay exactly where you planted it

Honestly…

if only human Tinder profiles came with this much useful information.

So if your garden has a lonely little patch…

if you’re sick of making bad choices…

or if you simply want something good looking, fragrant and dependable in your life…

come into Plantfarm this weekend.

Meet Scentuous.

Rub the foliage.

Have a sniff.

See if there’s chemistry.

And if there is…

SWIPE RIGHT.

Worst case?

You go home with a bloody beautiful tree.

Best case?

You finally find something attractive, smells amazing, loves being outside…

and doesn’t come with emotional baggage and a questionable ex.

Find your match at:

ECHUCA MOAMA PLANT FARM
13–15 Northern Hwy, Echuca

SHEPPARTON PLANT FARM
535 Archer Rd, Kialla

TREE TINDER. ❤️🌳

Because sometimes the healthiest relationship in your life…

is the one you dig a hole for.

And at our Plantfarms there are plenty of matches waiting.

18/09/2026

IT’S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN… 🍅

And judging by what you lot have already been buying, I reckon our TA meetings are going to have to start before Melbourne Cup Day this year.

Yep.

TA.

Tomatoes Anonymous.

Because apparently I’m not the only grown adult who turns into an absolute liability when tomato season starts.

Mine got bad a few years ago.

Really bad.

I went fully rogue.

No limits.
No supervision.
No ability to make sound financial or horticultural decisions.

You know how it starts.

One tomato plant.

Nice.

Controlled.

Bit of fun.

You tell yourself you’re just having one.

Then you see another variety and think…

“Well, two’s not really a problem.”

Two is social.

Two is still respectable.

Two means you can look people in the eye.

Then comes the third.

And the third is where s**t starts getting loose.

Because once you’ve had three, your judgement goes.

You get confident.

You start making promises to yourself that no sane person believes.

“I can handle another.”

“I know my limits.”

“I’m just trying a different variety.”

Classic addict behaviour.

Then someone points out the Roma.

Then the cherry.

Then the Grosse Lisse.

Then some fancy bastard with stripes on it.

And suddenly you’re six deep, holding a tray you don’t remember picking up, sweating slightly and telling Kate…

“I’m fine.”

You are not fine.

One was a taste.

Two was manageable.

Three was the point where a responsible adult should have taken your keys.

Anything after that and you’re on a full tomato bender.

By number eight, you’re choosing varieties because the name sounds sexy.

By number twelve, you’re talking about “expanding growing capacity”.

By number fifteen, you’ve measured the side fence.

By twenty, you’re wondering if the neighbour would notice six plants over the boundary.

And by thirty, you’ve started referring to yourself as a producer.

That is how I ended up with…

1,000 TOMATO PLANTS.

Yep.

One thousand.

Not by accident either.

There were several opportunities to stop.

I ignored every single one.

Planting them was easy.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Row after row.

I was flying.

For about 48 hours I genuinely thought I was the Pablo Escobar of tomatoes.

Had the empire.

Had the product.

Had distribution dreams.

No actual clue what I was doing.

Then they all needed tying up.

Unfortunately by then I’d emotionally moved on.

I had new interests.

Basil.

Garlic.

Capsicums.

Pumpkins.

Possibly melons.

My brain had left the tomato paddock and opened three new businesses.

So who got stuck tying up a thousand bloody tomato plants?

Kate.

That was probably the exact moment she realised this was no longer a hobby.

It was an intervention.

These days I’m proud to say I’m in recovery.

I attend regular TA meetings.

Plastic chairs.

Weak coffee.

Shame.

Denial.

The usual.

“Hi… I’m Craig.”

“Hi Craig.”

“And I have a problem with tomato seedlings.”

Then everyone claps because apparently admitting it is the first step.

I’m currently working through the 12-step tomato program.

Step 1: Admit you are powerless around fresh tomato seedlings.

Step 2: Accept that buying one of every variety is not “research”.

Step 3: Hand your trolley to someone with emotional stability.

Step 4: Never say, “I’m just having a look.”

That sentence has destroyed families.

Step 5: Stop hiding extra seedlings behind the shed.

Step 6: Stop telling Kate, “That one was already there.”

Step 7: Remember that owning a ute does not mean you need to fill it.

Step 8: Accept that the nature strip is not technically part of your veggie patch.

Step 9: Apologise to the people who received 14 kilos of tomatoes from you last February.

Step 10: Stop leaving bags of tomatoes at people’s front doors and sprinting back to the car.

Step 11: Accept that making chutney is not the same as having the problem under control.

Step 12:

GET A TOMATO BUDDY.

I have one now.

They check in.

“Craig… where are you?”

“At work.”

“Where at work?”

“…retail.”

“What section?”

“…seedlings.”

Long pause.

“CRAIG. WALK AWAY.”

“But they’ve got new varieties.”

“CRAIG.”

“They’re locally grown.”

“PUT THEM DOWN.”

“They’re only five bucks.”

“FOR DUCKS SAKE, CRAIG.”

That’s support.

And that’s exactly why you probably WON’T SEE ME IN OUR RETAIL NURSERIES THIS WEEKEND.

Because Purtills have just dropped us an absolute MOTHER LOAD of locally grown spring seedlings.

Tomatoes.

Capsicums.

Veggies.

Herbs.

Every bloody thing that makes a weak man weaker.

And Fridays are my trigger days.

Fresh delivery day.

That’s when the trolleys start rolling in.

One trolley.

Then another.

Then another.

Thousands and thousands of seedlings.

Fresh.

Perfect.

Standing there all innocent.

Little bastards.

I see that first trolley and my knees go weak.

Palms get sweaty.

Heart rate goes up.

I start breathing through my mouth.

My tomato buddy says…

“Craig… NO.”

My ADHD brain says…

“Craig… we deserve this.”

Then another trolley rolls past.

Then another.

And before I know it, I’m staring at seedlings the way a bloke stares at a drinks fridge five minutes before closing.

I know I have a problem.

But I also blame the pricing.

Because honestly…

LOOK AT THIS….

Fresh locally grown Purtill seedlings:

$4.85 EACH

or

5 FOR $22

Then, because apparently nobody here cares about my recovery…

HUGE MAXI TOMATO PUNNETS.

$5.50 EACH.

Five bloody dollars fifty.

That’s not retail.

That’s entrapment.

How is a man supposed to heal?

Put the price up.

Make them harder to get.

Keep them behind glass.

Make me show ID.

Give me a daily purchase limit.

Tomato Tax Tariff the bloody things.

Seriously Albo, you tripled the tax on everything else I enjoy in life,
(Whoops don’t give him any ideas)

Because selling huge locally grown maxi tomato punnets for $5.50 is basically putting the bottle on the table at an AA meeting and saying…

“Just one won’t hurt.”

So if you suffer from the same condition as me…

STAY AWAY THIS WEEKEND.

Do not grab a trolley.

Do not “just have a look”.

Do not say you’re buying one for a mate.

And whatever you do…

DO NOT HAVE THE THIRD TOMATO.

That’s how it starts.

Both stores are absolutely loaded this weekend.

ECHUCA PLANT FARM
13–15 Northern Hwy, Echuca VIC 3564

SHEPPARTON PLANT FARM
535 Archer Rd, Kialla VIC 3631

SATURDAY & SUNDAY 9AM–4PM

Fresh locally grown Purtill seedlings
$4.85 each or 5 for $22

Huge Maxi Tomato Punnets
$5.50 EACH

And somewhere back at the farm, I’ll be sitting quietly.

On a plastic chair in the corner

No trolley.

No cash.

No contact with the seedling department.

Repeating the words my tomato buddy taught me…

“Craig… you do not need another bloody tomato plant.”

One day at a time, people.

One day at a bloody time. 🍅😂

17/09/2026

FIRST RULE OF MARKETING YOUR OWN BUSINESS…

Apparently you’re never supposed to mention your competitors.

Righto.

But when they’re selling a smaller Weeping Cherry, in a smaller pot, for $197…

and ours, the same size, is $69.95…

I reckon the first rule changes to:

CALL IT OUT. 😂

Their price: $197
Our price: $69.95

That’s $127.05 difference.

For one tree.

And here’s the bit we nearly forgot…

OURS ARE LOCALLY GROWN.

Grown right here in our region.

For our conditions.

Direct off our own production farm.

No mystery road trip.

No soft, mollycoddled tree that’s spent its life living the botanical equivalent of a day spa.

These have been grown for the sort of weather we actually get around here.

Cold winters.
Hot summers.
Wind.
Dry spells.
Real regional conditions.

So not only are they cheaper…

they’re ours.

And I’m sorry, but not even the smell of a burnt snag and a soggy onion floating across the car park is changing my mind when I’m saving $127 on one bloody tree.

That sausage would have to come with a $100 note wrapped around it.

Now, Craig’s money-saving tip for the day:

If you genuinely prefer buying from the other mob, take a photo of our price with you.

If their price-beat policy applies, show them ours and ask them to beat it.

There you go.

I may have just helped you save money at my competitor.

Marketing 101 has officially left the building.

Or…

you could just support the local family business that put the fair price on it in the first place.

You’ll earn Plantfarm loyalty rewards.

You’ll get actual advice.

And you’ll be buying a tree grown locally for local conditions, straight from our production farm.

Now, growing them is the easy bit.

PINK OR WHITE WEEPING CHERRIES 🌸

Give them a sunny spot, ideally around 6 hours of sun or more.

Plant them in well-drained soil.

Water them deeply while they establish, especially heading into warmer weather.

Mulch around the base, but keep the mulch away from the trunk.

Give them a good complete fertiliser in spring.

And don’t go pruning the poor thing like you’ve just discovered the chainsaw.

Remove dead, damaged or crossing branches and keep the natural weeping shape.

And if you see shoots coming from below the graft, cut them off.

That’s the rootstock trying to take over the show.

That’s pretty much it.

Sun.

Water.

Good soil.

A feed.

And don’t interfere too much.

So there you go.

You can pay $197…

or $69.95 for a locally grown one direct from our farm.

Save the $127.05.

Buy another plant.

Buy lunch.

Buy fuel.

Hell, buy a sausage if you really want one.

Just don’t tell me the smell of burnt snag and soggy onion was worth the extra $127.

PINK & WHITE WEEPING CHERRIES — $69.95

Available now at Echuca & Shepparton Plant Farm.

Echuca 13-15 Northern Hwy

Shepparton - 535 Archer Rd Kialla

One call to order - 1300 599 988

17/09/2026

THE CHAIR OF FIDDLE SHAME HAS ARRIVED.

Yep.

I’ve finally accepted that some of you should not be trusted with another Fiddle Leaf Fig.

Not yet anyway.

You’ve had chances.

You bought one.
You loved it.
You over-loved it.
You watered it every time you walked past because apparently guilt is now a watering schedule.
You moved it from the lounge room to the kitchen, then to the bedroom, then back near the window, then away from the window, then turned it 90 degrees because someone on Facebook named Cheryl said “they like to face north”.

Next thing you know, the poor bastard looks like a broomstick with three leaves hanging on for dear life.

Then six months later…

you’re back.

Standing in front of another one.

Eyes wide.

Wallet out.

And your partner is standing behind you with that look.

You know the one.

The look that says:

“If you put another bloody Fiddle Leaf Fig in my car, I swear to God…”

So I’ve stepped in.

I’ve created a recovery program.

A quiet place to reflect.

A safe zone.

A little botanical parole office.

THE CHAIR OF FIDDLE SHAME.

Come in.
Sit down.
Face the fiddles.
Think about what you’ve done.

I’m charging $99.95 a sitting.

Which is convenient, because that’s also exactly what one of Eddie’s huge bloody Fiddles costs.

So you’ve got two choices.

Sit in the chair and admire one from a safe distance…

or say “stuff it”, buy another one, jam it in the car and begin the next chapter of your relationship breakdown.

Entirely up to you.

Now Eddie says to me while we’re unloading these monsters:

“Craig… what do you reckon breaks up more relationships… IKEA or Fiddle Leaf Figs?”

And I thought…

Bloody hell, Eddie.

That’s deep for 8:30 in the morning.

Because IKEA absolutely has form.

You walk in together happy.

You’re laughing.

You’re holding hands.

You’re saying things like:

“Let’s just grab that little side table.”

Three hours later you’re in aisle 46 holding a flat-packed cabinet with a Swedish name that sounds like a throat infection, one of you is hungry, the other has lost the trolley, and somehow an Allen key has become evidence in the prosecution.

Then you get home.

“Where’s screw B17?”

“I gave you B17.”

“No, you gave me B12.”

“Well why didn’t you read the instructions?”

“I WAS READING THE INSTRUCTIONS.”

Bang.

There goes Christmas.

And somehow Fiddle Leaf Figs can do the same thing.

Except slower.

No flat-pack furniture.

Just one leaf dropping every week while your partner walks past and says:

“How’s your $99 stick going?”

That one hurts.

Now Eddie is a simple bloke.

Great bloke.

But simple.

He’s also the bloke you absolutely do not want to get stuck behind at Subway.

Because Eddie walks in thinking he’s buying lunch.

Poor bu**er doesn’t realise he’s about to sit his VCE oral exam.

“What bread?”

Eddie freezes.

“White.”

“Which white?”

There’s more than one white?

“Six-inch or footlong?”

“Footlong.”

“Toasted?”

“Ummm…”

“What cheese?”

“How many cheeses?”

“What meat?”

“What salad?”

“What sauce?”

“Salt and pepper?”

“Extra bacon?”

“Avocado?”

“Cookie?”

“Drink?”

“Would you like me to ask another 37 questions before handing over your sandwich?”

By the end of it Eddie looks like he’s just come out of Centrelink.

He only wanted lunch.

And that’s exactly what we’ve done with Fiddle Leaf Figs.

They used to be a plant.

That was it.

A plant.

Put it somewhere bright.

Water it occasionally.

Enjoy it.

Then the experts got involved.

Now apparently there are rules.

Mist it.
Don’t mist it.
Rotate it.
Don’t rotate it.
Filtered water.
Rainwater.
Humidity.
Pebble trays.
North-facing windows.
South-facing windows.
Sing to it.
Don’t sing to it.
Wipe the leaves clockwise.
Only repot during a waxing moon while Mercury is behaving itself.

For Christ’s sake.

It’s a plant.

Eddie reckons the secret to growing them is to do bloody nothing.

Which, when you think about it, is exactly what Subway should’ve done.

It was once just a sandwich.

Bread.
Meat.
Salad.
Sauce.

Done.

Nobody needed a consultation.

Nobody needed to know your five-year plan.

Nobody needed to ask if you wanted spinach, jalapeños, three sauces, extra cheese and emotional closure.

Just make the bloody sandwich.

Same with the Fiddle.

Find it a bright spot.

Put it there.

Then…

LEAVE THE BLOODY THING ALONE.

Stop dragging it around the house like it’s dodging debt collectors.

Stop moving it because your cousin’s hairdresser’s neighbour reckons hers “thrives in the bathroom”.

Stop watering it every Thursday because Thursday feels like plant day.

Stick your finger in the mix.

Dry?

Water it.

Still damp?

Walk away.

That’s it.

You do not need to form a support group around it.

Half of you aren’t killing these things through neglect.

You’re killing them with affection.

You’ve loved the bastard into the ground.

So this weekend, if you are a repeat offender, come and visit The Chair of Fiddle Shame.

We’re open 9–4 at Echuca and Shepparton.

Sit down.

Admire Eddie’s absolute weapons of Fiddles.

Think about the ones you lost.

Remember their names.

Gary.
Susan.
Fiddle No. 3.
The expensive one.
The “this time I’ll do better” one.

Maybe say a few words.

Then, if you genuinely believe you’ve changed…

if you think you’re ready to re-enter society…

if you can promise not to water the poor bu**er every time you feel emotionally unstable…

you may buy another one.

BIG FIDDLE LEAF FIGS — $99.95

Huge.

Tight.

Beautiful.

And at this stage, completely innocent.

What happens next is between you, the plant and your marriage.

And if your partner sees you carrying one toward the car and yells:

“NO BLOODY WAY. YOU’RE NOT BRINGING ANOTHER FIDDLE HOME.”

Just stay calm.

Look them straight in the eye.

“Relax. I’ve done my time.”

“I sat in the Chair of Fiddle Shame.”

“I faced what I’d done.”

“I accepted responsibility.”

“I completed the treatment.”

“I finished the program.”

“I’ve been educated.”

“I’ve grown as a person.”

“I’m not the same Fiddle killer I was when I walked in here.”

Then gently place the new Fiddle in the car and say:

“This is part of my reintegration back into society.”

And if they still don’t believe you…

tell them Craig signed off on your release.

Welcome back. You’re officially rehabilitated.

FIDDLE LEAF FIGS $99.95

Previous offences will not be held against you. 😂

14/09/2026

🐨 BARRY NEARLY GOT TAKEN OUT BY A POTHOLE.

Well technically it was the cars dodging the potholes…

but either way, yesterday got a bit bloody dramatic.

We’re driving between Shepparton and Echuca, bouncing along one of regional Victoria’s finest collections of craters, sinkholes and suspension-testing facilities…

when Shana suddenly SCREAMS.

Now Shana does scream a fair bit.

Spider.
Snake.
Coffee spilt.
Wrong song on the radio.

So normally I just keep driving.

But this one was different.

“THAT’S A BLOODY KOALA.”

BANG.

BRAKES ON.

Truck comes to a halt.

Hazards on.

And suddenly we’re no longer running a nursery.

We are now a fully operational, completely unqualified…

KOALA RESCUE UNIT.

There he was.

This chunky little bloke standing near the road, looking left, looking right, probably thinking…

“Who built this bloody thing?”

Cars everywhere.

People dodging potholes.

Suspensions screaming.

Drivers concentrating so hard on keeping all four wheels attached to the car that nobody’s looking for a furry bloke trying to cross.

So naturally we jumped out.

“What are you doing, mate?”

Then we saw it.

Across the paddock.

One decent gum tree.

And Barry wanted it.

Yep.

Barry.

We named him Barry the Koala Bear.

And Barry had his eyes firmly locked onto what we call…

🌳 THE KOALA TUCKER TREE.

Its proper name is:

Eucalyptus tereticornis.

Which sounds like something your doctor diagnoses after you’ve Googled your symptoms at midnight.

So let’s keep it simple.

KOALA TUCKER TREE.

To Barry, this thing may as well have had a giant red-and-white bucket out the front.

It was basically…

KFC FOR KOALAS.

And there he was risking his furry little backside crossing a road full of people playing Dodge The Pothole just to get some dinner.

And that’s when I thought…

we need to do more.

Not write a Facebook post saying we care.

Not slap a koala emoji on something.

Actually plant the bloody trees.

So here’s what we’re doing.

Straight from our Plantfarm growing farm we’ve got:

🌳 EUCALYPTUS TERETICORNIS
🐨 Koala food and habitat tree
📏 Around 3 METRES TALL
💥 $125 EACH

These aren’t tiny little sticks you plant and then tell your grandkids to check on in 40 years.

They’re proper trees.

Big, healthy, locally grown trees ready to go into the ground and get started.

And I reckon we should start something.

COME AND GET BARRY A TREE.

Plant one on the farm.
Plant one along the fence.
Plant one in a paddock.
Plant one somewhere with room to grow.

Remember these are big trees.. you need the room ..

Because one day Barry’s cousin, Barry’s son, Barry’s weird uncle Kev or some other hungry little bu**er might wander through looking for dinner.

And there it’ll be.

A giant leafy drive-thru.

No app.

No loyalty points.

No surcharge.

Just dinner.

Now I know planting one tree isn’t going to save every koala in Australia.

But if 10 people do it…

that’s 10 trees.

If 100 people do it…

that’s a bloody forest starting.

And if enough of us do it, maybe one day Barry won’t have to cross a highway, dodge a Ranger, two caravans and a bloke towing a boat just to get lunch.

So here’s my challenge.

🐨 PLANT A TREE FOR BARRY.

We’ll call it…

BARRY’S KOALA TUCKER TREE ARMY.

Because we might not be able to fix the roads.

We might not be able to stop every idiot behind the wheel.

And judging by the size of some of those potholes we probably need a mining permit before we fill them…

but we CAN plant more trees.

And that’s a pretty bloody good place to start.

Available now at Echuca & Shepparton Plantfarm while this batch lasts.

🐨🌳

SAVE A BARRY.
PLANT A BLOODY TREE.