Tomato plant: 1 Gardening advice: 0

In May, I planted one cherry tomato plant. I tried a new location this year and hoped to get more than a handful of tomatoes. And at first, my plant seemed to really take off.

At the end of May, I went to check on my plant. Most of it was gone: one or two deer mouthfuls, I suspect. All my hopes wavered. The plant did sprout new stems, and I staked them. All I could do was hope for the best.

I was worried, though: my first gardening book, Bountiful Countainers, warns against secondary stems: it says they only make leaves. It recommends pruning away everything but the main stem, where all the fruit would be produced. My main stem was pretty much wiped away. I wondered, had that been my only hope for fruit?

Yesterday, I was ecstatic to find blossom buds on my plant, on all four stems. And so I have learned: there is more than one way to prune a tomato.

Ripening berries

The mulberries are ripe. We have at least three trees in our yard: no matter where I am doing yardwork, I can stop and snack on a few mulberries.

The gooseberries are ripe. My neighbor helped me cut down a bunch of smallish elm trees last year, and the gooseberries really like the extra sunlight. It looks like I'll get several dozen berries, up from less than five in previous years.

The raspberries are ripe. This is about on-time from our 2006 and 2007 experiences. But it surprised me, because we didn't get berries until July in 2008 and 2009.

I won't do any formal berry harvesting this year because of my work schedule. I will enjoy seeing these reminder of summer every time I walk through my yard.

Facing mortality

I visited family recently: my mom and grandparents. While I was there, my grandparent's fridge broke. I went to their house to help set up the replacement.

One of my tasks was to transfer all the decorations. I started with the letter magnets - two sets, larger and smaller letters. The sets are decades old, ones that I played with as a child. I put some up randomly, and spelled a few words with others.

Next in the pile was my cousin's artwork: it fit neatly in among the letters and words. There were some magnets with cute sayings that held up the artwork. I was mildly proud of the arrangement I'd made.

Finally, I came to the last item. I examined it, wondering where it would go on the fridge. It was an envelope. I read the letters to myself: EMS DNR inside. "Emergency Medical Service" I puzzled out. And then, "Do Not Resuscitate."

I stood there for a little while, just staring at the packet. My mother came over. She looked at the packet, looked at the fridge, then said, "It doesn't seems like it fits, does it?"

Hearts and stomachs

This morning, I watched the routine at my mother's house. She went across the alley to check on my grandparents. We listened to the morning news. The dogs were fed, the cats were fed. Her husband left for work - "Don't forget your lunch!" admonished my mother.

Making meals for a loved one seem to me like an excellent way to express one's love. It's convenient - they don't have to meal plan or cook - and often it is healthier than other options. Being cooked for can have a dramatic impact on one's health - my mother's husband lost over fifty pounds the first year they lived together.

I am visiting my mother and grandparents this week. I have been really struck by how much care revolves around food: my mother packs lunch and cooks an evening dinner for her husband every day, and most days cooks a mid-day dinner for her parents. Cooking and other care for her parents is a task she shares with a sister and a brother's girlfriend.

Seeing all this food-caring makes me wishful in two ways. One, I wish I had more time so I could take care of my own partner by cooking healthful meals. Two, I wish my partner would take care of me by planning and cooking our meals. There are obstacles to both wishes. But being reminded of how good cooking can be, perhaps these obstacles can be overcome.

Dirty parrot

Last night, I was winding down from a long day. I made a cup of tea, and sat down on my couch. As I sipped my tea, my cockatiel got excited. He wavered back and forth on his perch, then climbed down the cage to the couch. Step, step, step, hop! Onto my mug.

He likes tea, but this was more than the usual excitement. This time, he didn't just sip the tea. He got some in his beak, shook his head to throw it around, and then fluffed his feathers up to enjoy the moisture. He looked like he was thinking about jumping into the mug. Our blue-and-white budgie came over and wanted to do the same thing. Poor dirty parrots - I've been working so much I haven't bathed them.

Today, I brought out the casserole dish. I filled it halfway with lukewarm water. The budgie jumped in and splashed around, beating the water until he was at least damp all over. The cockatiel likes to have help from a spray bottle - he gets really soaked. Afterward, they preened. And preened. And preened some more.

Now we have good, clean, happy parrots. It was a fun day.

A mouse did it

Two weeks ago, the telephone line in our computer room stopped working. My partner and I took a break from internet and phone calls. We read books, we hung out with each other. My workload is still crazy heavy (one week I was there for 80 hours!) which helped keep the phoneline a low priority.

Yesterday, I traced the cord around the room and into a large closet. Way at the back of the closet, where the roof slopes down and you have to stoop, there is a knot in the floorboard. The hole it leaves is mouse-sized. And in front of the hole, the phone line was neatly chewed through.

It was quick work to patch the wires together. But thanks, mouse, for a refreshing break from the always-on connectedness of internet.

Arcing

Yesterday morning, I was at Bible study. We started the sixteen verses that contain the ten commandments. Most of our discussion centered on Exodus 20:5-6, which follows the commandment against idolotry:

I, the Lord, your God, am a zealous God, Who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the sons, upon the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me, and [I] perform loving kindness to thousands [of generations], to those who love Me and to those who keep My commandments.

The idea that innocent children should be punished for the sins of their parents, aside from being repugnant, directly contradicts other text in the Bible (e.g. Deuteronomy 24:16.)

One commentary put an interesting spin on the passage: perhaps it is not a statement of intent to punish. Rather, it could be an observation of the moral interdependence of parents and children. Children who are abused, for example, are at significantly elevated risk of becoming abusers themselves.

We also talked about the ratio of bad effects—three to four generations—to the "thousands of generations" for good effects. Does time really increase the amount of good in the world?

I remembered part of a quote from Martin Luther King, Jr, and looked it up when I got home:

The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.

It's a hopeful statement - bending toward justice. I find it kind of inspiring to think of the arc reaching back to Moses and the commandments. May we continue to guide the morals of our society toward justice.