I want that damn tomato…
File this under random, but true. Cross file, strange new obsession.
I live in the lovely, dampish, richly soiled Seattle. It’s kind of a crunchy, over grunge, hip urban nirvana. My neighborhood is Seward Park-home of queer parents, friendly not narrow straight(ish) breeder-types like me and synagogues. It’s nothing to see the sidewalks filled to capacity with stroller moms, runners taking their dogs out for a quick spin and families greeting each other on their way to pray. We all seem to get along.
I am about 2 ½ blocks from the local PCC (click here for link), one of Seattle’s popular wonderful, hip ultra modern co-ops. I am a regular there-purchasing water, bagels or their addictive peanut butter pretzels. I even have my favorite cashiers and deli clerks, depending on the time or day.
On the 2 ½ block jaunt to the PCC market-about halfway between-I pass by this cute little house. It’s about 2 bedrooms, nicely painted with a rather tall fence. Outside of the fence, by the road-some of their garden spills out. I am not sure how “Mary’s garden” grows inside the fence. But I am very sure that this household is harboring some beautiful Heirloom tomatoes. Outside of the fence are 5 Heirloom tomato plants that are almost obscene in their lushness. They are heavy with slightly dirty, shiny skinned, juicy ripe fruit.
I want that damn tomato…
Yes, it is the season and I can find these succulent, taste sensations just about anywhere right now. But none that I have seen in stores seem to match the curves of these tempting sidewalk jewels hanging seductively low to the ground. My mouth waters thinking about red, yellow and green crevices as I slowly walk past and check the vicinity for potential eyewitnesses.
I want that damn tomato…but, being a good neighbor, I continue on my way to the PCC.
I live in the lovely, dampish, richly soiled Seattle. It’s kind of a crunchy, over grunge, hip urban nirvana. My neighborhood is Seward Park-home of queer parents, friendly not narrow straight(ish) breeder-types like me and synagogues. It’s nothing to see the sidewalks filled to capacity with stroller moms, runners taking their dogs out for a quick spin and families greeting each other on their way to pray. We all seem to get along.
I am about 2 ½ blocks from the local PCC (click here for link), one of Seattle’s popular wonderful, hip ultra modern co-ops. I am a regular there-purchasing water, bagels or their addictive peanut butter pretzels. I even have my favorite cashiers and deli clerks, depending on the time or day.
On the 2 ½ block jaunt to the PCC market-about halfway between-I pass by this cute little house. It’s about 2 bedrooms, nicely painted with a rather tall fence. Outside of the fence, by the road-some of their garden spills out. I am not sure how “Mary’s garden” grows inside the fence. But I am very sure that this household is harboring some beautiful Heirloom tomatoes. Outside of the fence are 5 Heirloom tomato plants that are almost obscene in their lushness. They are heavy with slightly dirty, shiny skinned, juicy ripe fruit.
I want that damn tomato…
Yes, it is the season and I can find these succulent, taste sensations just about anywhere right now. But none that I have seen in stores seem to match the curves of these tempting sidewalk jewels hanging seductively low to the ground. My mouth waters thinking about red, yellow and green crevices as I slowly walk past and check the vicinity for potential eyewitnesses.
I want that damn tomato…but, being a good neighbor, I continue on my way to the PCC.