You say tomato...I say let's eat!

We just screamed past the Vernal Equinox...and already I'm thinking about tomatoes.

Spring has sprung and brought a wave of nice weather here in the Southeast. I watched my unacclimated neighbors whom hail from the North busy about their yards planting flowers and such this weekend. For the record, that's about as nice as you'll ever hear a sentence around these parts that contains a reference to both people from the North and the word hail/hell...which is homophonic to us. But that's a different post all together.

Alas, the indigenous know better! Digging a hole and sticking in a begonia can only mean one thing in March...you'll be buying another begonia in May. Despite the lunatic rantings of native Al Gore, Southerners know the reality of the Calendar Spring/Actual Spring trick bag. I blogged about the progressive indicators a few years back (with a sly reference to hooters...I mean..hoot owls), and the trust we hold for the Farmers' Almanac. Southerners don't put a lot of stock into that prognosticating rodent above the Mason-Dixon line either. The idolatry of an overgrown squirrel is just odd to us. The only good that's ever come from a groundhog is the fact they are the major reason grandma needed a 6.5 quart slow-cooker. Pudgy varmints. But...I'm way off subject!

Yes, I truly do love homegrown tomatoes. Summer comes closely associated with the divinely inspired combination of white bread, sliced red tomato, mayo and a sprinkle of salt. Kosher if you're fancy. I'd bet a tomato sandwich was one of the first meals Eve presented to Adam after his busy day of naming animals in the Garden of Eden...and men have been stupid for the fairer sex ever since. As a matter of fact, the Bible doesn't actually say an apple came from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. (egad!) Could it have actually been a tomato that thrust mankind into the harshness of a brutal world?! That would mean the Garden of Eden was in South America because everyone knows that's where the tomato originated (despite what the Italians say). What's that? Tomatoes don't grow on trees you say?

Then explain this------>

Now I've gone and opened a theological discussion completely off subject! (sigh)

So as tempted as I may be, this old boy knows better than to haul down to the local garden shop and pick up a few Beefmaster or Floramerica plants to get an early jump on growing season. Nope. Here in USDA Plant Hardiness Zone 6B, we don't stick annuals in the ground a minute before Mother's Day...unless you're wealthy enough to own your own greenhouse. Wow. There's a thought.

Now I know one of the first thing I'm doing after I win the lottery...