Well, it's Valentine's Day...again.
As many of us know, this isn't necessarily the most exciting day of the year when you're single. Most of the V-Days in my life have been spent solo, and I suppose as one gets older, one does start to wonder how much longer one will have before one dies alone in one's one-person apartment. (Note: When I say "one," I mean "me.")
But! This year, I resolved, SOMEONE was going to do something romantic for me! Someone was going to buy me FLOWERS!
(Second note: When I say "someone," I also mean "me." We're developing a theme here.)
So I put on a chic red sweater, got all gussied up, and headed to Marks & Spencer's. I know this isn't necessarily the sexiest place to buy flowers, but, well, I also needed groceries. One needs to cut a few corners when one is one's own Valentine.
Reaching the florist section of the store, I was vaguely thinking of buying myself some red roses. A classic for the occasion, after all.
And then...something caught both my eye and my imagination. What if, I thought, instead of buying myself roses - so perishable! So temporary! - I instead potted my own plant?
You have to understand that this is a pretty revolutionary idea for someone who has unintentionally killed pretty much every form of vegetation she's ever brought home. I swear I had a ficus commit suicide on me once, back in 2006. I've never recovered.
Long story short, I went in for red roses and came home with a tomato plant. A cherry tomato dwarf cascading maskotka, to be precise.
The instructions on the tin said "Simply sow and add water."
'I can sow!' I exclaimed to no one in particular. 'I can SO sow! I can sow SO hard!'
Once home, I realized there were additional instructions inside the tin. "Fill the tin with compost provided," I was told. "Scatter the seeds evenly on top and cover with a thin layer of the remaining compost."
Right away, this presented a bit of a poser: If I fill the tin with the 'compost provided,' shouldn't I by definition not have 'remaining' compost? Am I overthinking this?
Whatever, I thought. I pressed on. I filled. I scattered. I covered. I freakin' sowed.
My tinned-and-compost-covered seeds are now sitting on my kitchen windowsill, "in a bright position," as instructed. They should be blossoming into fruit by...
...July. I'll have tomatoes by July.
If I am dating someone by then, I will make him every tomato dish there is. I will make salads and soups and pasta sauce and homemade ketchup. I will make him a STEW.
Until then, we play the waiting game. Everything great is worth waiting for.
Happy Valentine's Day to all!