Upside Down

I planted a cherry tomato upside down today. It looks delightfully bizarre and I am pleased with it and considering planting more things upside down. I would never have thought of this on my own; no, my friend T told me last summer about this woman who had upside down cherry tomato bushes hanging all over her porch. The theory is that you get one of those hanging baskets with the coconut matting, slit a hole in the matting, plant the tomato upside down and then as it grows it comes up around the outside of the hanging basket and you have this funky psychedelic surreal mindblowing upside down cherry tomato bush. T's friend had them on her porch, which I would love, but unfortunately that would demand a porch with sun, unlike mine, which has not felt a ray of direct sunlight since it was built 80 years ago and so instead it's hanging from a metal stake with a glass sun in the middle of it out by the vegetable garden. The stake is a cool thing but I gave up on hanging baskets out there a while back because they're too much work: you have to water them every day, which is beyond me. But I'm going to manage it this year. I really am. Mmm hmm. Monday morning update: Check out the picture I just took! It would appear to already be working; overnight, the tomato has started to wrap itself up and around. Last night it was just hanging there looking pitiful.

This year, yet again, despite my terrible track record, I am determined to take extraordinary care of the garden and be rewarded with something that will look like it came out of the beatnik version of Southern Living, Southern Freak Living. I need more groovy and bizarre yard art to really make it into Southern Freak Living - the car bumper and bed headboard that make up part of the vegetable garden fence, the mysterious gun sight straightening metal thingie and the bathtub are not really enough. They kind of lean towards Southern Trash Living, if the truth be told. I have to create something much more stylish, but unfortunately my artistic skills lean heavily in the trash direction; c'est la vie. It's okay, because I have also decided I'm going to take a picture of the garden every single day from the same place and then in the fall I'm going to make a time lapse flash slide presentation which will cause people to weep with joy for the sheer beauty of it all. At least that's the plan.

You see, I am planning a big party for a bunch of my net friends in the beginning of August and I'm already worrying about the house & yard, which are never at their best in August, historically known as the month that Fliss says Fuck It and walks away from gardening. Last year August was actually the month after the month that Fliss said Fuck It and walked away from the garden, so by last August the garden was, essentially, just one huge gourd vine. I can't let that happen this year; people are going to see it. Also, it's easier to worry and do something about the house and garden than it is to worry and do something about my giant fatness, although my giant fatness is very discouraging and I need to stop eating, start exercising and otherwise make myself miserable until I fit into my jeans again, which will take months. I can't stand it, but I'm going to have to, because I can't afford new clothes and also my mother is starting to make catty remarks, which is easy for anyone who has never gained a pound in her life. Genetics are so brutally unfair sometimes.