Heirloom, Schmeirloom
I had a bit (just a bit) of an argument last night with my daughter. I'm going to go help her put in her garden today (she's never done one), and she's being very political about it. She wanted to know where she could get heirloom tomato plants. I didn't know, and told her that when I bought heirloom tomatoes last summer at the farmers' market, they weren't very good, and she'd be better off just getting Celebrity or Big Boy plants somewhere (the old "tried and true" for me varieties). Oh dear. She said she'd been doing a lot of reading and doesn't want to contribute to Monsanto and other seed companies by buying their hybrid plants.
Oh to be young and idealistic! I can't even think about such things. Guilt guilt guilt. If I took the time to research every item of food I buy/eat, I'd probably starve. She's right, of course, but I feel like I've got to pick my battles, and garden tomato plants ain't one of the ones I'm feeling like fighting. Isn't just putting in a vegetable garden being "green" enough? I guess not. I'm kinda thinking that driving all over town looking for heirloom tomato plants is going to make a bigger carbon footprint than walking to a close grocery store and buying some Big Boy plants. Oh well. It's her garden, and I'm pleased that she wants my advice.
On the consumer front, I just got some audio books from Audible.com. It's pretty awesome -- downloaded them directly into my iTunes. One thing I don't like, though, is that I bought some credits from them for my brother for Christmas last year, and they automatically made me a subscription. I don't always pay close attention to my bank statement, but suddenly noticed that they'd been taking $15 a month from my account since Christmas. I don't think I ever consciously subscribed, but there it was. No e-mails, no nothing. Just $15 disappearing every month, which I thought was sort of sneaky and rude. It worked for them, though, because now I will probably continue the subscription. I'm taking a solo drive next week from Nebraska to Montana, and some audio books on my iPod will be nice company (and won't be making me stop for bathroom breaks).
Gardening update -- a few hous later
We put in one heirloom tomato plant (called "Green Zebra"), and three "normal" plants (a Celebrity, a Jetstar, and a Better Boy). We did get them from a garden center that was local, so that was the compromise.
posted by Jo @ 8:06 AM
1 Comments
1 Comments:
I enjoyed this.
Our northern-exposure backyard doesn't get enough sun for tomatoes. We'd have to cut down enormous hickories and oaks, and that seems counter-productive and just plain wrong. I have to content myself with herbs: tarragon, basil, chives, both parsleys, sage, rosemary, and thyme. (Remember me.) Besides, no tomatoes I've attempted in 26 years of living with red Georgia clay have lived up to the gold standard set in my Nebraska black-dirt (isn't that the color dirt's supposed to be?) childhood.
The platinum standard for tomatoes was a bag we bought over twenty years ago at a field stand on Blue Ridge river bottom land in Bryson, NC. They were as big and smooth as brand-new (red) softballs. I even remember the smell of them...lusty and heady and salivation-provoking. We carried them home and after the first bite, kept looking for the needle mark where the sugar had to have been injected. I almost cried when they were gone.
Several years later, we were in the same neck of the woods and sought out the stand. It was gone, and so were the tomatoes. Something else was planted in the field. I don't remember what, because I'm pretty sure I was crying.
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