from sky to seed

Tomato trends

Well, they’re starting to come up!

Sorry I’ve been such a lazy pile of shit about posting these. They actually started to come up, like, two weeks ago. But a teeny, tiny part of my soul felt I might be jumping the gun by photographing them too soon — as though they might wither under the premature fame — and I granted their infancy some honest privacy.

Kind of like Jay-Z and Beyonce with their little one.

But now, well, here they are, stretching their limbs.

Moneymaker Tomato Sprout.

Moneymaker Tomato Sprout.

They took a loooong time to germinate. Way longer than the seed packets said. So long that I was afraid the seeds had rotted out in their dark beds. And I even went out and bought some pre-fabricated seed pellet thingies from Burpees, because I doubted myself and assumed I’d messed up the simple act of putting seeds in starter.

Actually, the seeds I put in the seed pellets are doing really badly. They got spindly too fast and I’m pretty sure are lying in their own graves.

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But such is life. I don’t feel too much responsibility over them.

Also, my eggplants still haven’t come up. I’ve all but given up hope. However, my little wildflowers, which I plan to eventually companion plant, are yawning awake, sleepy things.

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But it’s the tomatoes I’m most excited about. Even though I don’t particularly like to even eat them.

I’m excited that they grew because just about everyone around me tells me that it’s near impossible to grow tomatoes from seed, that it takes some kind of expert or holy shit master gardener, and most certainly not some egg-headed city-mouse-turned-country-mouse like me.

In other words, I did it. Small feat, but I’m proud.

Here they are, tiny miracles.

I set the plants outside when it’s decent enough, meaning not too much wind, to “harden” them to the comings and goings of the ordinary outdoors.

I just pray they can endure what comes — pest or blight or just plain, simple, bad weather. We’re getting a lot of that in Missouri, lately. I pray that they survive, both for their own plant soul sake and my own.

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Because right now in my life, I need them. Almost desperately.

Is it naive to find some kind of solace in their tender upbringing?

I do.

 

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