"NO, NO, PLEASE!" the eight tomato plants shouted to the Tomato Gods. "Anyone but HER! We want to LIVE, do you hear? LIVE, not SHRIVEL and DIE!"
This is what I imagine the eight tomato plants I recently acquired were shouting at the top of their tomato lungs when they noticed just WHO had plucked them from their promising growing career.
I have not been, shall we say, the most SUCCESSFUL tomato raisin' woman in the past. And word has gotten around the Foliage Community.
I'm sure my tomato plants screamed out a warning to the Marigold family moving into my front flower bed.
The Marigold family probably alerted the English Daisies (my favorite flower) moving into Pot #5 
and the English Daisies most likely passed the warning along to their neighbors down the row. (I'd tell you their names, but I have forgotten--the Purple Flowers is the best I can do.)
The Marigold family probably alerted the English Daisies (my favorite flower) moving into Pot #5 and the English Daisies most likely passed the warning along to their neighbors down the row. (I'd tell you their names, but I have forgotten--the Purple Flowers is the best I can do.)HOWEVER....
their botanical little selves may be in for a pleasant surprise and a long, productive life.
You see, my soul --in conjunction with my stomach--cries out for SALSA, SALSA, SALSA and I must cultivate only the juiciest salsa material.
My tomato plants have received unmatched nurturing and an outpouring of parental concern. 
My front yard yearns for color and beauty and this non-green thumb is determined to at least become green-ish.
1 comment:
I'm right there with you on this one. Kelly and I have never had a garden/yard before and so the whole planting thing is new. This year, in addition to tons of flowers, I'm trying peas and tomatoes. I'm praying for some growth, too.
Post a Comment