good tomato

Each summer my son and I make a list of the adventures we would like to share. The water park is always on there, and Disneyland. A few years ago "Eat pie" was a top priority. (what a delicious diversion!) Odd ones have included "use a metal detector" and "make a sock monkey". Classics include going to the drive in, going camping, rafting.

Some years we have wild success, checking almost everything off the list. . Other summers our eyes are bigger than our stomachs, so to speak. This year we made a modest dent in our two page list and even added a few unexpected ones. Sadly, we didn't make that trip to The Happiest Place on Earth. However, we did get to see the Redwoods. In my book, that's breaking even.

Happily, this summer, we did plant a garden. A container one. Zucchini, lemon cucumber, pumpkins, greens, herbs, cantaloupe, tomatoes. From scrubbing the pots, to selecting seeds and starts, to cajoling Jeff into prepping the "lot", to watering our tiny green sprouts, we did it. We grew stuff. Together.

Now, there's no bumper crop. We grossed two zucchini, two cucs, the spinach shriveled, the cantaloupe was stunted...but we are getting a few tomatoes -Purple Cherokees and cherries. Sure, Zane's interest has waned, but I still get pretty excited when I'm able to harvest a few leaves of basil, or slice a tom for a sandwich.

What I've enjoyed most about the project is how Zane pushed through the prep. It was the first time we worked together during which he was focused, interested, actually working rather than playing or looking for excuses. He was a partner, not a child.

He's growing up. Kind of like our tomato plants, he has branches of green fruit waiting to mature. And just like I anticipate the little toms that slowly ripen, I truly adore the times when I can witness this in my son. He's such a good tomato.