I often think about how my tomato plants are doing. I uprooted them three times in their formative years (ok, months) and then missed a couple waterings during a heat wave and I think it may have stunted their physical and emotional growth. I just hope that they grow up to be well rounded.
Cuz I wanna eat them.
The tomatoes have passed on! They are no more! They have ceased to be! They've expired and gone to meet their maker! Bereft of life, they rest in peace! If I hadn't tied 'em to the stake they'd be pushing up the daisies! Their metabolic processes are now 'istory! They're off the vine! They've kicked the bucket, shuffled off their mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THEY ARE EX-TOMATOES!!
Now playing in a garden near me, "Tomatoes: the Sequel". Can the next generation of tomatoes move past the horrors their ancestors suffered to go on to live full and productive lives? Film at 11.
****the saga continues****
After their ancestors were so heartlessly tossed onto a pile of rotting plant carcasses, one courageous little orange cherry tomato dared to peek its head out. Upon finding the resident human blissfully unaware it ventured out of the compost bin into the world where it went unnoticed until late summer when it had grown to the size of a small mountain, dwarfing the puny humans as they cowered below. But alas, the cruel cruel winter came, thwarting the tomatoes plans for world (backyard) domination. Or did it???
Wherein we find that the 'little tomato that could' really could!
As spring sprang five little sproutlings ventured forth, volunteering to carry on the mission of the brave to-martyrs that gave them life, stretching their little bodies up, up, up out of the ground until they were no longer sproutlings, showing in their little green leaves their potential to become full grown tomato plants...
I knew this madness had to stop. I had two choices. Rip the little buggers out of the ground, bury the evidence and try to live with the shame and guilt... or make amends, heal the damage caused by years of neglect, forge a new friendship where the tomatoes and I lived in peace. So I built them a big (6'x12') box to play in, packed it full of their vege friends and transplanted the survivors to their new home where they are currently thriving with little bundles of spinach playing hopscotch in the shade of their leaves.
I will feed on their children.