It's 11pm. Do You Know Where Your Tomatoes Are?

I just felt like I needed to capture the strangeness of my life as it existed moments ago. Emergency gardening. Indoors. At 11pm.

The tomato plant tumbled off of the fire escape in a storm.  Our downstairs neighbor kindly brought it up. There I sat, sprawled out in skirt and shoes, still dressed for work (WHY was I still dressed for work?), with a bag of soil spilling on the living room floor, clutching a shovel, desperately tying my drooping tomato stalks to a sturdy branch, all the while crying: But they have to be okay!  They have to make it!  

And though there are six more plants, (six more, Tyler groans) I can not bear the thought of these not making it.

You guys.

I don't know.

They came to me flopped and flattened with their roots sticking out.  I tried my best but they are looking shaken, disturbed.

Tomatoes From Seed: Progress

I continue to attempt to grow tomatoes from seed. Last I wrote, the seeds had germinated and I was waiting for true leaves.

They have been upgraded from the recycled egg carton to the plastic tumbler cups.  When temperatures allow, I adjust them to the outdoors. I bring them back to the sill.  I sing to them because I am told that helps and, besides that, they don't appear to mind listening. The roots nudge, impatiently, and their space grows smaller and mine diminishes too.

I'll move them to proper pots, to full sun.  I'll witness their progress and hope it's a bit like viewing my own.

 

From Seed

I have wanted a garden but circumstances have made that difficult.  Real estate in New York City is tricky and with each decision, sacrifices must be made.  With a garden came a small kitchen, no office, but a short walk to the train.  With an office (i.e. a place to write), came a larger kitchen, a longer walk, no outdoor space.

So the mind navigates these twists and turns and, somehow, we end up with a place, a home.

I have found ways to grow the things I don't actually know how to grow.  On the sun-soaked sill, on the shaky fire escape. This year, I thought, I'll try something.  Tomatoes from seed and if I fail, I fail.

Look. They've germinated.  Now I wait for true leaves.  The plant beside it grows wild. And I learn something new.