I’m a tomato mom this year. Specifically, I’m a cherry tomato mom, raising eight: two red, two mahogany, a gold, a yellow, a green, and a black.
It does a mother’s heart good to see them growing up, blooming, maturing, fruiting. They appear to change before my eyes, obviously loving the earth where they’re living and the warmth of the season. They get some water and a little guidance from me now and then to make sure they stand straight.
Other than that, they’re on their own. And I watch the miracle of life. I guess that’s the wonder of parenthood, eh?