Well, today is tomato-planting time. As you may imagine, I am a pro at this in that I try to nip off the tops of the plants and mama yells, “NO, NO, Loulou, not the tops, just the side leaves up to the three at the top!” Well, of course I knew that–I just wanted to stir things up a bit.
Then she digs a hole as deep as the roots and stem of the plant, leaving those three top things, and then she puts in some stuff from one of those weird animals she loves so—the ones that go “Heehaw” and try to have sex all the time—man, they are weird, but they do make good fertilizer for tomatoes so it’s okay if they hold second place in her heart—make that third place; I’m second; PAPA is FIRST AND FOREMOST.
So we plant these French tomatoes called “Russe” (go figure!) and then we plant San Marzanos for sauces and then we plant a HUGE tomato from Burpee called Best Boy, in America that cost a dollar a seed (!) and they only send 7 but what the heck. They all came up and I did NOT eat those tops, you can bet on that.
But–I knew a kitty who lived in the ’60s and then had a misfortune with one of those things you’re supposed to vaccine against but he came back over several lives and now he’s around here (I think he has three left–that’s enough to do damage) to tell me that in those times, people planted something a little stronger than catnip—every garden in Berkeley, where he lived, had some of this green stuff that looked like tomatoes, and one day he was trying to nip off the heads and HIS anthro just about went through the roof yelling, “NO, NO (like mama), Sylvester, NOT THOSE PLANTS! That’s my rent money!”
But by then he had nipped a little and man, that kitty was groovin’ the rest of the day…
Mama only grows tomatoes and courgettes (that’s French for plain old squash!) and a million fava beans and incredible kiwis (thanks to a neighbor’s plant that grows on our fence) and of course, the old parsely, sage, rosemary and thyme—tra, la, la, I sing as I meander (a word I love) through the garden, tiptoe through the tulips, etc., so that all summer long we have a cornucopia of good things, all picked right before they are eaten.
What a life this kitty has and I know that many kitties everywhere have good anthros to pet and cuddle them, but if they would learn to plant tomatoes, they’d be really happy because they would get the mozzarella from the insalata caprese—to heck with the tomatoes!
But I’m actually starting to like a little San Marzano sauce on my penne. That’s Italian for pasta shaped like pens, not what you thought it was…haha.
Here are those dumb-dumb animals that mama loves.
Actually, they are very, very smart and sweet but to a kitty, they are just big and hairy, and mama lets them LICK her hands…..ech!!!
You see! I tried to take his picture and he stuck out his TONGUE. Here they are, sucking up to mama for carrots.
