Holy Tomatoes, Batman

The Scientist has many eccentricities. One of them, like many men, I believe, is his obsession with The Yard. Our yard. He can mow it for hours and then go back and do it again and see the second run as just as necessary and productive as the first. Sprinkler placement is a matter of huge importance and can require diagrams and schedules. Having 20 people over in 8 hours? Well, no matter that no square inch of the children's room floor can be seen and we have an unfinished tile project in the playroom. THE YARD MUST BE DONE! And it will take 8 hours. At a minimum. No matter that it was done 2 days before.

I actually have a healthy respect for this. He sees The Yard as his sphere of influence. And there is a great deal to be said for recognizing your job and doing it well (obsessively). It helps (or not) that all the men in our neighborhood seem to feel this way. So, perhaps it is universal. But, they gather outside in the afternoons, comparing what so and so is trying in his yard to what they've got going in theirs. Admiring or criticizing color, thickness, texture, patching, and so on and so on and so on.

So, periodically, I test his dedication to his yard by suggesting that we tear up a bit of it and put a vegetable garden in. I love to vegetable garden. I wish I could get into flower gardening, but our front yard is a testament to the fact that I cannot. I need some gratification and gratification so typically comes from putting something in one's mouth, no? When The Scientist and I met, I was in the process of putting in a veggie garden behind my little apartment. I asked my landlord if he could not landscape the strip behind my unit so I could garden in it. What did he care? He was just glad I wasn't a crack addict. So, I grew corn and eggplant and cabbage and tomatoes and peppers. The Scientist thought this mildly amusing and probably married me because he was a vegan at the time and figured that I was a sure way to prevent starvation in a world that doesn't cater to eating preferences that are quite as strange as his were.

Several years ago, and after an unfortunate incident where everything I'd always said was proven to be correct and it was determined that he was wildly B12 deficient, he gave up the vegan lifestyle. He now eats like a regular ol' normal vegetarian, which is so very, very much easier for me. He even eats seafood (which is so non-vegetarian, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth).

So, he does indeed know how much I love my little plots of productive earth. I think he has just loved his Yard more than to humor another one of my little frivolities. But, as we all know, a healthy and extended grovel will work wonders. You see, we have a patch of yard in the back that is a constant frustration for him. It will not grow. The problem doesn't seem to be the sun. It seems to be the grass or the soil or something. But, no matter how much watering occurs it stays spotty and patchy and just not so lush and healthy looking. The kids don't play in it. We don't walk on it. The only purpose of this section of this yard in our lives is to drive The Scientist crazy. Perfect place to rip up and add good soil to so we can make it into a productive space, right? So, I begin a campaign on Saturday to get My Garden. I petitioned. I begged. I cajoled. I pleaded. I reasoned.

I was succesful.

He even bestowes upon me a trip to the garden center to pick up some plants. I purchase about 15 plants to add to the about 5 I already have. I realize that I will not be able to fit all these plants in the space I have envisioned, but I am so excited I cannot help myself. I buy some big pots to put the leftover plants in. The Garden-Resistant-Scientist's comment when I return? "You didn't get cucumbers? But, I love cucumbers!" A corner has been turned.

So, Sunday morning, groundbreaking begins. A tiller is required. And lots and lots and lots of topsoil bags. I cannot figure out why in the world about 20 bags of topsoil are needed and am sure they are not. I have a few very large bags of veggie and fruit soil in the garage and am sure they will be sufficient for my small plot. But, since The Scientist now has A Project, I would be a fool to intervene.

Several hours later, I check on the project. I walk into the backyard carrying my 3 tomato plants, 2 pepper plants and 3 zuccinin sprouts, eager to begin figuring out which 10 plants I will put in.

I find The Scientist beginning to place a barrier around the largest garden area I have ever seen in a residential backyard.

Corn? Oh, I can grow some corn. Three tomato plants? I need about 10. Sustain life in our neighborhood for a year? Oh, I'm your girl.

The Scientist looks at my face and I think realizes that I am going into shock. No damn wonder he was so resistant to the idea of a vegetable garden. He was envisioning this space that is big enough to accomodate crop circles. I was envisioning a space big enough to accomodate a few tomato plants and maybe a pepper or two if I was lucky. Sweet Jesus, have I got some work to do.

By 8 last night, my garden was open for business. Taking a page from The Scientist's book, I have an elaborate diagram of where my bajillion plants are going to go and a schedule of when my fall seeds should go in. I even got up first thing this morning and put in the tomato plants. I have 7 of them. I put the eggplant at the back near the fence because really, no one likes eggplant that much anyway, do they? So, if it turns out to be too shady back there, no one is going to be heartbroken. The cucumbers will go in today in a prime, sunny spot. So will the beans(two types) , squash, zucchini, okra (the Clemson variety, of course), and peppers (three colors of bell).

In a true shout out to The Scientist, he is almost as excited about this garden as I am. He says that he likes how "uniform" it looks and says that he actually thinks it looked better than the patchy grass. Just wait till I get my 6 zuccini plants growing a mile-a-minute in there and we'll see how neat and tidy it looks. But, for now, he is thrilled that I made another trip to the garden center for more plants (duh) and got several cucumber plants. But, he's mostly happy because...well, not to be too sappy, but that I'm happy.

That man never does anything half-way.