In which our protagonist puts her hope in a tomato plant
Way back when last I wrote we were in quite some commotion of hospitals, medication and trying to maintain some semblance of working life. Thus it was that, walking through the village one sunny afternoon, I took the uncharacteristically horticultural decision to attempt to keep a tomato plant alive. There it was outside our local florist's looking healthy and burgeoning. I'm not doing a very good job with humans. I thought; maybe I'll scale down and concentrate on this.
Somewhere in the recesses of my more than slightly addled mind I wondered if success with tomatoes might give me some hope for the strawberries as well! So I tended with watering, feeding, and the occasional chat. Very similar attention to that bestowed upon the poorly, if I'm honest!
And indeed, as the weeks have worn on, both strawberries and tomatoes have ripened into health and strength and vibrant redness of face. Well, Jo got a tad too much sun at tennis yesterday, but the suncream is out now.
So here we are, at the start of our summer holidays, marked as usual by a birthday. The Meadowplace is back in its happy place, the sun appears to be doing its Irish best to shine, and tomatoes continue to grow. Thus far!