Friggin’ tomatoes man. Why on earth did I buy tomatoes? I knew at the time that it was a dumb move, but to paraphrase Randle McMurphy, when they are all green and everything, right there in your face, you can’t turn them down. So I took five dollars and threw it right into the dirt with my tomato plants. Now they are covered up and tucked in like children in my garden.
There’s an Early Girl and a Cherokee Black. I got the Cherokee Black because it not only sound heirloom, it looks heirloom. Which means, of course, ugly as sin. But it will most likely taste as sweet as sin too. A couple of slices of wheat bread and some mayonnaise. Umph. The Early Girl I want because of the name of the restaurant. And because I want to be eating tomatoes on the first of June. Just you wait and see if I am not.
And in the meantime, I get to feel like I know what the hell I am talking about, which of course I don’t. If I knew what I was talking about, I would not be talking about planting tomatoes in March. Who does that? People who cover their tomatoes with blankets in April, that’s who. Maybe the same people who plant eggplant in April, if they can find any. In the meantime, I’m going to bring in the herbs. It’ll be cold tonight.