The Tomato Man

 "Do you think I should plant zucchini?" Tony asks.

"Yes, I think you should."

I used to be the gardener. I would wait until Mother's Day passed, pick-up tomato and other plants from my neighbor Nancy, who always planted too many seeds and loved to give them away. I wasn't, nor could I be-- picky. If she had peppers, I'd take peppers. If she had cantaloupe seeds, I'd take those too. I would plant, water and hope for the best. 

Along comes Tony, who decides in his first retirement summer that he will become a tomato gardener. My tomatoes never ripened until September and he thinks there's a better way to get homemade salsa before fall.

I encourage him whole-heartedly. Our garden needs more than a worn out, haphazard, come-what-may gardener. Science is the way!

First comes the soil testing kit. Then the soil thermometer. Mother's Day comes and goes without a tomato planted, because the soil isn't yet sixty degrees. Then comes a very long trip to the nursery where Tony deliberates excessively for the right tomato type and amount.

After planting, one of Tony's babies doesn't make it. He wants to stop at the nursery, but instead I hook him up with Nancy (the neighbor extraordinaire) who has extra tomato plants, "Please come and get all you want."

Nancy convinces Tony that he needs to plant the best cantaloupe seeds she's ever come across. The tomato-only guy accepts the seeds. Goes into the garden and human roto-tills the dirt. But he didn't come home with just one tomato plant--four.

After planting, he decides he can plant one variety that he didn't bring home. Along with the tomato is a companion that Nancy insists upon: basel.

He is now knee deep in tomatoes, basel, cantaloupe, and so dear friend, you see why the opening question is significant: Should I plant zucchini?