A haunting novel, Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, begins with the following line:
“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”
A few months ago, I declared Wednesdays as “Tiny Steps Gardening Days” and committed to write about growing food. I stayed on task for a number of weeks; then something suddenly came up and I fell off the Tiny Steps writing wagon. One of my friends questioned me about my dereliction to duty with a gentle “And what happened to Wednesday gardening day? “ and I tossed and turned much of Thursday night, wondering what tiny steps I had taken lately on the self-reliant food front.
If I were to write the story of my blogging life this morning, it would begin like this:
“Last night I dreamt I went to pick tomatoes again.”
My first tossing and turning thoughts were about last year’s alfalfa seeds and adzuki beans. Watching them sprout and grow was interesting, but I was ho-hum about the actual product. I didn’t want to dream or write about them again.
Then, as I was drifting off to sleep, I thought about last year’s premature tomato seed start at the end of February. My eagerness resulted in slightly leggy tomato plants, but they grew well once they were in the ground. This year, Uncle Bob reminded me to exercise caution with my seed starting; it’s his warning that has distracted me from my purpose and skewed my writing to topics like tiaras, zombies, skunks, and forty dollar carrots.
My last waking thought was rumination on the tomato seeds I started on Monday, March 11; tomato seeds can take from 7 to 14 days to germinate so I had nothing to write about yet, even though I’m nervously hopeful about the seeds I saved them from last year’s delicious Valencia tomatoes. Time will tell if I write about tiny cotyledons next Wednesday.
When I woke up this morning, I wondered about Valencia, Spain. Commenter Loosehead Prop might have something to say about this place; he’s traveled a lot.
A Valencia town has an annual tomato fight every year called La Tomatina. The idea has spread to a few cities outside of Spain; it doesn’t sound like anything I’d be interested in and I’m happy to report there won’t be such an activity at this year’s Moxie Festival. We’ll stick with a fireman’s muster on Main Street.
Wide awake now, I’m taking a few tiny steps forward this Friday; I will start the remainder of my tomato seeds this weekend and I’ll get back on the wagon next Wednesday. Until then…
What gardens are haunting your dreams?