Our tomatoes are turning red, slowly but surely. And we even have this lovely "Georgia Streak" variety that has shades of pink, red, purple, and yellow showing their colors. But, my favorite variety, primarily because of it's fun-to-say name ("Reisenstraub!", said with the worst angry German accent you've ever heard), is an early ripener. They are larger than their cherry friends, smaller than the Brandywines, redder than the Cherokee Purples and Eva Purple Balls, and... I can't remember the names of the other two remaining varieties we planted. I love them. I love that in the anticipation of watching these things grow, you become attached to every last "milestone" within the garden's fence.
• • •
I once made the mistake of telling a friend (in the company of my wide-eyed children) that I wanted to show them the great joy of my life, my pride-and-joy, the reason I wake up in the morning, etc, etc. I pointed the way to the garden.
Blink, blink.
(It goes without saying that the climbing leaves and mounds of dirt in the backyard fall in line after my children, of course.)
• • •
That is why when a gardener sees his/her children of the flora type being eaten by this giant:
...you get angry. But then you take it's picture. And then you read an Eric Carle book. And then you explain for the 90th time that week why you can't keep insects in the house as pets. And then you paint the picture of such insects curling up in bed with you when your sister forgets to put the lid on it's habitat (half-cut soda bottle with Saran wrap over the top). And then you try to un-paint that picture as the sun sets and children get a case of the heebeejeebees before nightfall.
Ahhh, nature.
...you get angry. But then you take it's picture. And then you read an Eric Carle book. And then you explain for the 90th time that week why you can't keep insects in the house as pets. And then you paint the picture of such insects curling up in bed with you when your sister forgets to put the lid on it's habitat (half-cut soda bottle with Saran wrap over the top). And then you try to un-paint that picture as the sun sets and children get a case of the heebeejeebees before nightfall.
Ahhh, nature.
7 comments:
AAAH! Is that really a "hornworm" or is the tomato plant happy to see you?
P.S. The parental control feature on my new anti-virus software blocked your blog due to "adult" content. Congratulations.
ewww that things is disgusting. Really yucky. We move in 2 weeks. F.r.e.a.k.i.n.g out. I am afraid of culture shock.
ROFL that's hilarious and awesome and I hope the girls managed to sleep... ;P Whatever did you do with that thing?
The hornworm has a certain beauty to him, but I'd be totally steaming angry if he was attacking my 'maters (as we call them round here). Ours are popping up red now. I have a sneaking suspicion that we will soon be drowning in a sea of lovely edible red goodness. Sigh.
OK but name-wise I'm going to have to vote for the Eva Purple Balls. (And I am pronouncing it "Evah.") Adult content indeed.
How can something so yucky be beautiful at the same time? Wonder what God was thinking when he created puppies & kittens AND insects & caterpillars? Have you thought of a organic vegan dish using these critters? Something Anthong Bourdain (sp?) would love to grill and eat!
ML
lisa, i love thinking about the origins of these heirloom names. "matt's wild cherry", "ruth's bible", "jenny lind"... they are so romantic sounding. and now, every time i look st the "evah purple balls", all i picture is a poor old horny man who has decided to take up growing tomatoes as a distraction. mmmm.
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