Things, they are a growin'

round these here parts.


This is a fairly regular sight:

It's getting close to that time of year again.



Then I heard a strange noise in my backyard a couple days ago, and went to inspect it, and discovered this:

yes, it's spraying... next to my laundry on the line.
sigh.
God knows what I'm bathed in right now, but I promise you, I have no grub worms.



And my lowly lil' accomplishment on my big old ranch?

This sweet little 'mater.

I'm actually quite chuffed (pleased) with myself since it's the first tomato I've ever grown. *I don't even like tomatoes fyi*

You see, when I was a kid, my parents had THREE gardens. It was an exceptionally miserable experience for me since bugs have always found me quite attractive. I found out later in life, that certain people emit carbon dioxide or lactic acid more than others making them primo real estate for dinner reservations.

Didn't matter, no one believed me. I was forced to work in the garden regardless. Only I did it in July, in the heat, in bell bottom jeans.

After spending countless summers covered in bites and scars from bites, I decided when I "grew up" I would NEVER HAVE A GARDEN. (Nor would I marry a farmer - sorry guys, you're actually pretty cute but I didn't want to get stuck driving a tractor. Love you anyway).

I decided instead of tilling, planting, weeding, pruning, harvesting, canning, storing, I would work 5 minutes overtime, and buy cans of beans on 2 for 1 sales. And it worked. I've not had a garden ever.

So you see, this little stinky tomato plant (blech) is an accomplishment for me. It's sittin' out there, soaking up the sun, getting fat and sassy, and I get all the glory. Well, Gene does.

I prefer lettuce and onions myself.