I have really wanted a little garden, but I don't know why, I couldn't make my thumbs green enough this summer to actually do anything about it. I kept telling those wannabe green thumbs of mine, "Next summer ... " Imagine my surprise when at the end of July, that fabulous Italian family told me that among the weeds growing next to our house was a tomato plant. !!! Whaaaaaaaat. No matter what way you say it, to-may-to, to-mah-to or mo-no (Ryan is on his way to a gold medal in pronunciation), I was excited that this little volunteer wanted to give our house some company. We are guessing that the tomato seeds flew over from our neighbor's garden across the street.
Since that discovery, I have worked really hard make our lone tomato plant harvest very plentiful by doing ... nothing at all. I never tied it to a stake, wrapped chicken wire around it, or even really specifically watered it! Yet somehow that plant was a fighter because when we arrived home from Texas, it had spread its arms to cover the whole rock bed. It is a behemoth of a plant, and today I happily went outside to pick my first tomatoes.
|I promise, this is just one plant.|
(Once I had run out of room in my two hands and there was still plenty of red on the plant, I momentarily thought, "Oh! I'll just put them in the bottom of my shirt like Cinderella's apron or something like that!" And then I realized that I was pregnant and that use of my shirt would expose my belly and I might freak out our neighbors so I grew up a bit, made two trips and grabbed a big bowl. You're welcome, neighbors).
None of this harvest is of my volition; it's all you, tomato plant. But, I apologize ... that doesn't save us from eating you.