COLUMN: Things tomatoes teach about life Mindful Musings
Crazy people — we all know at least one of them on campus. Sometimes you love them, and sometimes you hate them. But among other lessons, my first tomato garden taught me that crazy is only relative to perception.
Growing up, my dear mom kept a section of her expansive flowerbeds unplanted. The eternal weed patch was comparable to the bug that keeps getting in your face, and each time you attempt to slap it away, it just keeps returning for another round of annoying fun. I was convinced that my mom was not only crazy for having so many flowerbeds in the first place, but her weed patch was purely insane. I knew in my young mind that her sole motive behind the weed patch was to make my life miserable by forcing me to pick weeds in the hot summer sun for hours on end, before I could go play with my friends.
I never understood her personal desire to spend so much time in the dirt. That is, until I realized how much I actually missed picking fresh vegetables and fruit at my convenience. And if I was being honest with myself, I actually kind of missed the weeding part of the process.
When I moved to a house that had an available garden space, my itch to develop a green thumb meant the chance at understanding my mom’s crazy fetish was inevitable. After much consulting with gardening gurus and the Internet, I felt ready to attempt my new hobby. Bring on the peas, carrots, lettuce, potatoes, herbs, beans and, of course, the tomatoes — complete with these life lessons:
1. In general, successful tomatoes require substantial effort. Success in life also tends to require a substantial measure of effort. Great work yields great rewards.
2. Like people, each plant has its own temperament. It has quirks, needs and a personality that sometimes seems simply uncontrollable. One of my more unruly tomato plants decided that it wanted to leave the comfort of its cage and grow and sprawl onto the lawn and into the cages of other tomatoes. When I first noticed its devious ways, I tried to move the branches into a more organized pattern on the cage rack. This resulted in a broken branch.
This quote from historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich immediately came to mind after snapping the branch: “Well-behaved women rarely make history.” And well-behaved tomatoes are not necessarily the most productive ones. When I let the tomato plant just be, my free-spirited plant became my best tomato producer. Sometimes it really is best to simply unleash our creative potential and let our branches grow.
3. Marathon weeding is not as effective or enjoyable as weeding while you go. A healthy measure of patience in facing life’s obstacles coupled with spreading and managing time wisely results in a job well done and better fruit for picking.
4. Tomatoes are people, too — or at least deserve to be treated as such. The first night I realized dropping temperatures proved a real threat and could mean the demise of my tomatoes, my heart quite literally broke. My blood, sweat and time became the fertilizer of life. These were no longer just plants, and something needed to be done to prolong their existence as long as possible.
After a quick consultation with a gardening mentor, I knew that, for any chance of survival, my sweet tomatoes needed to be covered through the night. Being short on time and resources, the only logical measure was to use the sheets from my own bed to protect the plants. If I had not reached crazy status yet, this was the Parmesan cheese to top off the homemade marinara sauce. I turned into the crazed neighbor, barefoot in the chilly rain, gardening by the light of her headlamp under the pale moonlight. When you truly care enough about someone, you will go to great lengths and sacrifice your own comforts for theirs.
5. My mom was not crazy after all. I just thought she was, because I failed to see the allure and merit of her relentless hobby.
When you find yourself figuring out how to pass the time through Logan’s nasty, inversion-filled winter, find someone you think is crazy and learn his or her hobby, or the quirk that makes this individual crazy to you. Our perceptions about one another may bridge differences to make way for common ground and new friendships. Who knows, you may love the hobby so much that you become something like a crazy person, thinking tomatoes have feelings.
– Tyra Simmons is a senior majoring sociology. Her column runs the second and fourth Wednesday of every month. and send any comments to tavin.stucki@aggiemail.usu.edu.