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Posts Tagged ‘tomatoes’

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tomatoes

… it should not go away because it keeps me away from my little garden and that lets the herbs and veggies do what they need to do which is simply grow. I do have to go out and snip this and that to encourage further growth, and thin this and that so that I don’t have plants competing too much, and I do have some more seedlings to plant, and some seeds came in the mail and I have to be strategic in what I do with them because I’ve got this plan, you see, to create a wall of vines, some that bloom in the morning, some that bloom during the day, and the ones that bloom at night. Whoa! I’m trying to balance gardening in support of birds and the bees while respecting that a certain person in the household who is digging my raised beds doesn’t mind beauty but he’s really into edibles, especially tomatoes and basil. But he does understand that my growing cardinal vines and borage (which is edible but he doesn’t like the cucumber flavor) will help get his tomatoes properly pollinated. In this wierdest of all years in my living memory, I’m not gardening for sustenance necessarily; I’m gardening for sanity. I know, growing up in Virginia, that my dad’s vegetable garden definitely put food on the table. I remember helping him plant seed potatoes, beans, squash, peppers, onions and he grew his tomatoes, too. He gardened to feed his family but I suspect he gardened to find peace as well.

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lemon basil

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spearmint, basil and marigold

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orange mint, marigold, curly parsley, flat leaf parsley, oregano and a wonderfully empty red pot waiting to be filled

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From her lovely garden in Brooklyn. These that weren’t eaten on the road back to Boston were sliced up with some cucumbers and celery and tossed with oil and vinegar. Good stuff! 🙂

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tomatoes

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and some olives

tomatoesandolives

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No recipes for these. Just pop into the mouth. Yum, yet again. 🙂

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The last of a delicious gift of homegrown tomatoes.

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There is an elderly woman who lives in my childhood home in Virginia.  My brother tells me that she loves to grow tomatoes like some people grow wildflowers.  In every available space, as a border to the porch, in the spots where the roses and hydrangeas grew, all now tomatoes.  While wonderful to see such eccentric growth, it was also hard for my brother to see.  There was a part of him that wanted the old yard back, the flower beds and vegetable garden and the swathe of green grass just big enough for children to run about with clothes lines arching above.  He wanted the fence line back that separated our property from the neighbor’s, a wire fence covered in honeysuckle and milkweed and edged with wild mint.  And he wanted the trees, the maple, the plum and that short-lived apricot.

All had been gone for near two decades but in that moment, of seeing those tomatoes, he fiercely wanted it all back and with it the parents now deceased and the siblings spread far and wide.  “You alright, Daddy?” his son asked.  He looked down at his five-year old who was sprouting up like an oak.  “Yes, son.  Daddy was just remembering.  Remind me to tell you about the seeds I planted in this place.” The son nodded and then said, “Okay, but can we go to the playground first?” My brother laughed, tickled his son, and let the past fade knowing it would never disappear.  “Yes, son, let’s go.  We must have our priorities.”

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… I consider it a gift.  It will soon be planted in a big pot and set to rest on the hallway table next to the container of potatoes.  The potatoes will stay indoors, as they always have, but as this plant gets bigger, I’ll take the landlord up on his offer and take it downstairs to the outdoor garden.  I’ve grown tomatoes outdoors once before in the city … quite successfully … and then had a major falling out with my local squirrels. We’ll see what happens this time.

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tomatoes picked from a friend’s garden, just this morning 😉

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Oh, yes, indeed.  I was intentionally playing with my food.

It had been a long day of working with words.  So, at the end of that day, the little kid in me just wanted to dabble in color.

I rose from my desk and walked real fast to the corner store, a Korean market where the owner always greets me with a smile.

She’s used to me now, sometimes entering her store, with no purpose, just to wander the aisles in a bit of a daze, trying to let go of a heady day.

But this day, I had a purpose.  I knew I wanted vegetables to carry home and chop up and photograph in the light of the setting sun.

I wasn’t really thinking dinner. Luckily, Steve always is and so when he returned home, I simply showed him my colorful palette and he saw cooking ingredients.  After a moment of thought, he nodded and said, “I can work with this.”  He would add white garlic and red onions to the mix, but no images of these items do I have for this post because by then I had put my camera away.

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