Ent and me

I'm hungry. I'm always hungry.

In other exciting news, I'd like to give an update on the most exciting aspect in my life right now. It's my tomato plant. I realize I've never actually mentioned him (it's a boy; everything in my life is male right now...), so this isn't so much an update as it is breaking news, but whatever. I like 'update' better.

I'll cut right to the chase. My tomato plant, currently named Ent, after the Lord of the Ring tree shepherds, is causing quite the controversy throughout the ladies in my church. To put it plainly, there are tomato experts with a thorough understanding of proper tomato plant rearing throughout the county, and not a single one has a tomato plant as large, as prosperous, or with as many fruit as mine has. He is actually flourishing under my black thumb and has even brought spectators to their knees in awe. He is that amazing. He is bushier than most, leafier than most, fiercer than most, and even braver than most. We have a problem with bunnies here but not a single bunny has dared partake of this plant's forbidden fruit. They fear him, I'm sure, as we all do just a little bit.

The jealousy that has been the result of his success has not gone unnoticed, however. I often have to keep an eye on resentful neighbors, just to ensure that they don't try to poison him. I doubt that would effect him too much, being that he is as sturdy as a full-grown oak tree, but I still wouldn't like to see any part of him suffer. He might lose a leaf or something.

I imagine his rapid and triumphant growth is largely due to my constant love and attention. No other living plant has ever experienced so much thought and adoration. I tell him daily that I love him. I greet him morning and night, as I go to and from work. I touch his leaves and branches lovingly, and talk to him in an adult fashion (none of that baby talk for him, he's too much of a man to tolerate that). Basically, I've found the secret to gardening and I'm going to share the steps to that secret.

1. Buy plant and let him/her know their potential. I told my tomato guy that I would be counting on him for the summer's grocery list. He needed to provide me with enough tomatoes to be able to only eat tomatoes for the rest of the summer and never have to buy another item of food until his slow decay in winter. He understood and was never confused at what I expected from him. **See notes below**
   
2. Steal potting soil from neighbor.
3. Put plant in ground and cover the roots with stolen potting soil.
4. Water infrequently; this keeps the plant guessing and so he gets stronger by storing up nutrients, unsure when his next meal is coming. This also gives him 'grit.'
5. Shower him with love and force random visitors to come and admire him. This gives him confidence. He not only recognizes his potential and your expectations, but he is aware how proud you are. This gives him an ego, and kind of a cocky 'tude that helps keep bugs, bunnies, and small children away.
6. Watch him/her blossom like a weed.
   

**If your plant is a female rather than male, the entire approach will be much different. There will be more encouraging and less tough love, being that girl plants do not respond well to that kind of motivation. They need more hand-holding and self-esteem boosting. If possible, tell the girl plants how pretty she is, how skinny she is, and how she makes $2 tomato cage look like a $2,000 tomato cage. She will appreciate it and shyly grow big and strong for you.**

If this doesn't work for you, than you're an even worse gardener than myself. You might only need practice so you might consider having a child before you take on the full responsibility of a tomato plant. If that doesn't take (your child didn't turn out like you had wanted and ended up pooping or peeing on something other than their diaper), you might need to face the music. Living things and you are not meant to coexist. Try buying a nice bouquet of silk flowers and call it good.