Man Down!

Actually, 3 Dead Soldiers to be exact.

How do I explain to my husband that he has lost 3 loves of his life, 3 loves that he has raised from...well, from seed. After a day of dragging Farmer Mac all over town and actually making him slightly tardy for work, the last thing he asked as he humped his sweaty bod off to work - can I water the lower half of my garden before you go to bed tonight. Since the sprinkler was sitting in the top half, I turned it on there first while I finished off painting the deck. (Yes, that is where I have been these past few days. Painting.)

An hour or so before sunset, Ernie and I took a wander down to the Veg Garden and as I neared the SF's tomato plants, I noticed one had fallen down. Then another....and another! What the hell! Farmer Mac has probably paid more attention to his tomato plants than he has to me (Not really.) of late. How could this happen? I have watched him plucking off the (don't know what they are called) to make his plants hardy and strong. I have watched him painstakingly stake them. Weed them. Feed them with fertilizer. Water them. Surround them with eel grass to keep them well nourished and mulched. I have even witnessed him talking to them, whispering I don't know what.

Upon closer inspection I could see that they had snapped and thought that it was the weight of the water from last night's sprinkling. But no. It appears that in his original attempt to stake them, there was not enough slack left in the twine he used and since they have probably tripled in size in the last couple of weeks, they were inadvertently, for lack of a better term, garroted to death. The twine had slowly choked the life out of the step and snapped the plants inches from their base.

So do I call him at work. Well, I tried to call him on his cell but no answer. Then I thought to myself, do I take the coward's way out and blog about it, call him at work and announce, as I so often do, "I HAVE BLOGGED", and then hang up? Sure! That sounds like a great plan!

But first I figured I had better save the others. I had to get some operating tools - nail clippers, scissors, minuscule pruners, additional twine. Kudos to me for my reaction and sacrificing ANOTHER pint of blood because it also happens to be the hunting hour for the mosquitoes who love my sweet nectar. Clip...Slap, Slap...Snip...Tug, Twist, Slap Tie...Slap!

As I neared the half way point, the phone rang. DANG! It was the Farmer calling me back. I attempted to hide my own disappointment but senses something was amiss. The more I applied my diversionary tactics, the more concerned he sounded. Had I fallen? Did a fox steal Ernie? Oh for God sake! You killed your G.D. tomato plants! So, there! To hell with trying to break it to him gently.

I am now down a gallon of blood and feeling rather light-headed but I did finish staking his plants. That's how much I love him.