Tomatoes are red, violets are blue...

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!