Well, it’s been a trying few days here in GardenLand. I now realize just how fortunate I was to have wonderful neighbors for the past 3 years, after I bought this place and moved in. Not only did Ed and Kerri have a cute dog for Hudson to practice his kung-fu moves on Hudson and Jake blog.JPG , but we had fun joking about my “nice melons” and thinking of diabolical ways to annoy the Yuppie Scum Neighbors on the other side of me. Ah, the good ol’ days!

Hudson and Jake blog.JPG

But that was then, this is now.

So the new people moved into Ed and Kerri’s apartment last week, by cover of night. The next day I heard the kids running around and shrieking, and thought, well, there go the tomato plants I planted in that yard, as one of my “satellite” locations, with the blessings of the landlady. The next morning, I went outside early and as usual, surveyed my domain. Immediately I noticed that my lovely little row of heirloom cucumbers that I had planted on one end of the fence, which just the day before I had admired for growing so robustly, seemed to be….gone. Vanished in the night. Of course I bustled over to the other side of the fence (through the doggie/hobbit door that Ed had put in the fence) to investigate, not believing my eyes. Not only were they gone without a trace, but so was one of the love-lies-bleeding seedlings I had nurtured and coddled from seed. This seems to be one of those plants that self-seeds easily, but is a pain-in-the-ass to grow from seed.

The next few hours were not a pretty sight, as I found the evidence of seedling-cide in the garbage, fumed, then questioned the new neighbor dad who came schlepping up the gangway with cell phone plastered to ear, whose wife informed him that “the landlady said we could do whatever we want,” and I then informed him that that didn’t include yanking out seedlings that were growing on MY side of the fence…a fence that is actually my property. Whereas Ed and Kerri, the uberneighbors, were so nice as to inquire if they could hang flowerboxes off the fence, these yahoos seemed to think they had the right to reach under the fence and yank anything that wasn’t to their fancy.

Suffice it to say, after the mom came bustling over eventually and I finally managed to convince her that the cukes and flowers were in fact growing on the OTHER side of the fence, i.e. on my property (I pointed to the surviving love-lies-bleeding as evidence of where things were planted), I think she realized that she was dealing with Crazy Psycho GardeningObsessedNeighborLady that they did NOT want to mess with. So she apologized, promised everyone would be careful, SchlumpyDad continued to ignore me (whatever, pal!), and I lamented my dearly departed cucumber seedlings.

I also took up John (the long-term neighbor living in the garden apartment next door) up on his offer of wine, and started guzzling away the afternoon. That was Saturday.

Sunday I think I started to develop a twitch or nervous tic in my face as I watched the other new neighbor, in the same building but on the 2nd floor, get back to the weeding she started a month ago. Note to all gardeners out there: earwigs and slugs LOVE dead plant material, so you should only leave piles of yanked-out plants piled up against the fence if you want to invite every earwig within a 5-mile radius to your personally created Earwig Schmorgasbord. Her mom looked at the lone morning glory that had survived previous “weedings,” (and what is it called when someone yanks out the flowers and leaves the weeds – “flowering”?), proclaimed it a weed and yanked it. Twitch. The kids start tossing things around that inevitably come bouncing onto my tomato plants. Tic. Mom starts yanking out everything that’s growing along the fence, larkspur and all, moving closer to the cukes I have planted on the other end of the fence. Twitch. Neighbor lady pulls out the chainsaw to trim the bush by the garage door, in front of which I have tomato plants growing happily. Cocktail!

Who said gardening was supposed to be relaxing??

The coup de grace came on Monday, when my garden helper Hudson took it upon himself to dig the dirt out of the flower box. Again. Dug out the melon/cuke seedlings. Again. And the butterfly pea vines. Again.

Clearly, this is all a sign from the gardening powers-that-be that I am such a fine physical specimen that it would be simply over the top if I were to become any more perfect through consumption of healthy fruits and vegetables. I may heed this message from God yet and stock up on bon-bons and other decadent treats…….

Next time, for all of you frothing at the bit to hear about some of the 100+ heirloom tomato plant varieties I have planted in various locations, we’ll be All About Tomatoes. Tasha and tomato blog.JPG With pictures of baby tomatoes to show off! But because I’m one of them-there old-fashioned types without one of them new-fangled digital cameras (yet), I actually have to bring my “film” in to get what is called “developed,” foreign terms for you young-uns. Hopefully some of my pics will turn out nicely, especially the ones that show all the little Cherokee Purple tomatoes. Ah, Cherokee Purple…….if you’re going to grow just one different kind of heirloom tomato, make that your one. Trust me. Your first taste of one that’s perfectly ripe, and the first thought in your head will be along the lines of “ah, NOW I get why people wax so eloquent over heirloom tomatoes.” Yes, they’re that good…..

Tasha and tomato blog.JPG

I will also take pictures of my pathetic tomatoes out at the community garden plot at my mom’s place. Same plants, same planting method, same care……totally different soil. If anyone’s looking for proof that what matters most is amending and caring for your soil, constantly adding stuff to make it even better, these pictures should be enough to convince anyone.