Reaching Within

For too long, I extended myself. Not just physically and emotionally, but also by reaching for meaning. To help me gain direction, bearings. To feel a sense of belonging. Sometimes, begrudgingly, to keep up with trends.

It was no different in gardening. I spent years on the tomato merry-go-round thinking I’d never find the right tomatoes, that the next big yellow one was the one I *just had to grow*. Then, slowly, and I mean every season for a decade, a little bit of tinder, a proverbial rebuttal, sparked in me. Some might call it resentment, but I think it was a kinder thing. Curiosity. It was the curiosity it takes to be courageous. The curiosity it takes to push back against the tide of trends. And it can feel like swimming upstream, but it also brings new vantage points, unique angles, and a sense of returning home.

It’s with this sense of returning that I’m awakening to the gardening season, that I’m reaching into my seed stash excited to grow mostly old friends. That I didn’t need to order tomato seeds because I have more than enough variety to keep our counters overflowing and our tummies satisfied for a few years, easily. It’s this easy feeling that washes over me, a sense of satisfaction not unlike my epic cable knit I recently finished, knowing that I’ve spent years exploring and yearning for more tomatoes, more variety, more color, and in a way that process got me here. To a state of satisfaction not with something new and exciting but with just a few steady varieties that we know exactly how to enjoy them. And that’s why we grow them. We are in relationship with them.

There’s the Plum Perfect for ketchup and oven roasting. The sungold for snacking and risottos. The Paul Robeson for a tomato sandwich. The Whittemore or Afternoon Delight or Pink Berkeley Tie Dye for some very delicious BLMTs (bacon, lettuce, mozzarella, tomato). And anything beyond that is gravy. It doesn’t take much to satisfy when you distill it down to a few key meals, a few classic ways to use them, meals that get worn out from July through September, and then fade to nostalgia until it starts all over again. Which it’s about to do. And I’m salivating just thinking of it.

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