I used to not like tomato plants. At all. I know, I know! What was wrong with me?? It was that sharp earthy aroma that had me crinkling my nose in distaste. I couldn't stand it. It would permeate my hands and just UGH. Really, though, as much as I love eating tomatoes (and I seriously do love them), I can't fathom why I didn't care for the smell of the actual plant they come from. It was odd.
But now? Now, it's like a sweet perfume. A balm to all my garden woes. Perhaps, it's because last year I didn't harvest anything really except tomatoes. Maybe it's because I finally, finally, figured out how to actually grow something. And not completely obliterate it. And even get it to harvest.
These photos are of my three tomato plants. There is a cherry, a beefsteak and...another one. All three have blossoms. Every day I come out and they have exploded with more new itty ripening 'matoes. The smell doesn't bother me anymore, I love it dearly now. I would probably wear it as perfume if it was available (ooh, tomato vine essential oil?) I love those little guys so much I'm planning on getting a tomato blossom tattooed on my person.
Yeah, it's that kind of crazy love.
No comments:
Post a Comment