In December I was given some tomatoes that were still very green and we ate along on them till there was only one left. It sat in lonely seclusion on the kitchen counter, holding itself aloof from the bananas and oranges. All it's friends had disappeared down the pie hole except a couple who had slowly turned black and mushy. It never turned a proper shade of red for a tomato, having been severed from the plant before it was quite ready but in time to save it from frost. Time passed and the tomato began to turn it's thoughts inward; certainly that was better than consorting with bananas.
By mid February I had noticed the tomato was turning an odd dark color on the blossom end. I suspected it was beginning to rot from the inside, but I could find no place where the skin was broken and wondered what was happening. At long last, I fried some bacon, took out the lettuce and mayo, picked up my knife and started for the tomato. I heard tiny frightened screams coming from the tomato, but I hardened my heart intending to save at least some part of it from ultimate destruction and loss. I sliced off the bottom of that tomato and beheld dozens of germinated seed inside that pinkish orange peel.
What was I to do? Should I try to rescue those seedlings and plant them? Should I hurl the whole thing in the trash? This was a conundrum the likes of which I had never faced. Some must die and some must live.Ii laid those seedling filled slices right in that BLT and ate it right down. Yummmm
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment