Jessica Sutich

As of last week, I now have a tomato plant that claims to be a “big boy” tomato plant. I also have some basil, lettuce, and a bell pepper plant. The lettuce and the bell pepper need to be re-potted so at some point today I will have to bike dirt up the hill to my apartment. As a city dweller I am scared of the dirt in my yard. I am under the impression that it is filled with lead paint, gasoline, chemicals, and death. I don’t know if that is true but I was raised in New Jersey and I was taught to be afraid of dirt and water. I lived for a brief time in Boulder, Colorado and people would just go down to the creek in the middle of town and swim in it. I had to fight the urge to yell at them to not touch the water. So today I will buy dirt and take care of that.

The thing I am finding the hardest to do is leave the plants alone. I water them and then I stare at them. Then I go inside and look at them through the window. I keep expecting them to do something. “Boom! I grew a tomato for you, Gardener!” or “Boom! I’m dead. You have failed and your colony will eat nothing this winter.” I came very close to killing my tomatoes by over-watering them. This weekend I was away from my apartment for three whole days and I figured when I got home they would either be dead from neglect or thriving. I got home and they were fine. They were healthy, socializing better, driving cars, and dating. So I guess my plants are growing up. I will not tell them quite yet that I eventually plan to eat them.