Kath came over tonight to exchange a giant bag of apples - compliments of her neighbor - with a giant bag of tomatoes (and one pepper) from the ClizBiz Garden of Miracles. I tried to pawn off this giant freakish tomato but she was too scared.
So am I, quite frankly. Reminds of the first time I saw a ridiculously oversized man-rod:
"Uh, wow, that's great. Congratulations, seriously, but what exactly am I supposed to do with that? I mean, I'm happy to sit here and worship it, no problem. As far as it actually going into my mouth, I just don't see it happening."
I feel a tad like Dr. Frankenstein here. Perhaps my mulch doesn't know its own strength. Was it the hovering? The swearing? Perhaps my grunting, "Fuckers!" at the weeds accidentally transferred some powers into the the dirt, the worms and the roots. Oops. Just more evidence that I need to clean up my act.
This is one Tomato. ONE. There are about 10 coming right along behind, except they are BIGGER. Oh, Lord, help me! What have I done?!? Why was I so power hungry? They must be stopped! Why-o-why did I not have seven children so they could help me eat it?!? I'm always skipping the useful stuff in life.
Ah, geez. Might as well give it a shot ...