*Insert air violin*

RIP tomato plant.

It’s been getting shabbier and shabbier, and while there are still lots of green tomatoes on it, they didn’t seem to be ripening or growing any bigger.  I still watered it and fed it, but I wondered if the weather lately (ping ponging back and forth from hot to foggy) had done a number on it, or maybe it had gotten sick, or maybe I just inadvertently killed it somehow.

Last Tuesday there were people here, and one of them, acting unknowingly as my grief therapist, assisted me in first pinching off all of the dead leaves.  From there it was a slippery slope to me shouting “Let’s just pull it!”  A few people had told me that even if the plant is dead, you can take the branches and hang it upside down and the tomatoes will ripen.  When we tried to pull the plant out of the dirt, the entire 5 gallon block of Miracle Gro and roots came with it, which is when it occurred to us that this kitty litter bucket might have been too small for the size of the plant.

My therapist suggested we cut it in half and plant half in another bucket, but plants don’t come with dotted lines down the middle, and I was in a state of exhileration at this point.  So we hacked off the branches with fruit on them and hung them upside down, and then kicked all the crunchy leaves on the floor off the balcony.

The next day when I peeped out onto the balcony I beheld the saddest sight: some leaning over, leafless, scrawny branches, a mess of carnage on the floor, and a couple branches tied up with baby blue yarn, bearing tomatoes that I have to admit to myself will probably never be edible.

The weird thing is that I don’t really remember what prompted the slaying.  It feels sort of like looking back on a drunken or just very late night.  It’s somewhere between the “Oops, I shouldn’t have cut my own bangs” and “Oops, it wasn’t a good idea to slaughter my pet pot bellied pig and serve it up with barbecue sauce.”  Thank God this was “just” a plant and not a pet.  And thank God I never got around to naming it.

My basil is dead (although I didn’t really expect that to work out either, as I just bought a little basil plant from Trader Joe’s and stuck it in dirt) but the rosemary seems to be thriving.

I’ll try again with the tomatoes next year.

I had to clean everything off the balcony and get rid of the evidence because it was depressing me.  And making me feel a little guilty, honestly.

I’m not leaving you with a picture because I want you to remember the good old days, the days of lushness and prosperity.

I close my eyes only for a moment then the moment’s gone…
Dust in the wind…All we are is dust in the wind.