I never thought I could love a vegetable as much as I love my tomatoes. They’re growing so well and they’re so strong. Of course I feed them, er, water them religiously. They’re more than just a round little vegetable of goodness: they’re my friends. They’re also little reminders that I have 100 % completely lost my mind.
Before we can go any further, I need you to know that I don’t care one ounce if a tomato is not “technically” a vegetable. “Technically” this is my world and I can decide what I want. What? Are you going to tell me next that it’s not socially acceptable to chase strangers down the road with wide open arms just to hug their dogs? Didn’t think so. That would be preposterous.
My grandfather is perhaps the most talented gardener I’ve ever witnessed. He has risen the bar extraordinarily high for us mere mortals. Growing up eating his amazing tomatoes has made me admittedly a bit inflated with faith in my own abilities. Gardening can be hereditary, right?
You have to understand that I am not kidding. I truly have “the feels” for my little vines of wonder. It also makes me feel closer to my granddaddy, who just so happens to be my favorite human IN THE WORLD.
I left for a week and when I came home, my tomatoes were HUGE!
I ran over to my buddies, er, tomatoes to inspect their impressive growth. One particular tomato was HUGE. I mean, she was just showing off. I couldn’t help it. I had to touch it. Have you ever seen anything so cute that you couldn’t handle yourself? This is a feeling I am very familiar with (hence my million animals). I reached out to pet my tomato and tell it how beautiful it was becoming. So, I turned her a little bit to look at her from all angles, when all of a sudden, it FELL. She just JUMPED off the vine and to my feet below me.
I did the only humane thing I could think of: I stomped her to put her out of her misery…and to hope to find worms in her so I could feel better about her untimely death. But, there she was: perfect and squished.
Ugggg. I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself!!!
So, this week I learned that farmers shouldn’t pet their plants. Sometimes you have to let things be and not force yourself on them. Sometimes.
Now, each morning when I walk outside to inspect my garden, I will whisper, “Don’t pet the tomatoes…don’t pet the tomatoes.”