Our comically tiny vegetable garden has produced a few tomatoes and a puny pepper, some weeks away from maturity. It is such a pitiful sight, I'm embarassed to be seen watering it. Perhaps we'll do better next year, having learned a little (he said, with the unjustified optimism of Jim Leyland or Trey Hilleman).
Here's a Brautigan verse that seems appropriate.
From "Rommel Drives on Deep Into Egypt:"
My Concern for Your Tomato Plants
I stare at your tomato plants.
You're not, I'm not pleased with the way
they are growing.
I try to think of ways to help them.
I study them. What do I know about tomatoes?
"Perhaps some nitrate," I suggest.
But I don’t know anything and now I've taken
to gossiping about them. I'm as shameless
as their lack of growing.
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