Hot Cranky People

The diagnosis is official. I have contracted “I can’t stop planting vegetables”.

Sure, there are worse diseases I could have picked up, like “I can’t stop punching people in the mouth”, or “Crabs”, but I maintain that my illness is a serious one.

This is the first time I’ve lived in a place with both ample space and sun. And an intricate system of soaker hoses on timers, preventing me from having to actually remember to water. I thought, awesome, I will put in a cucumber, a yellow squash, a zucchini, and 3 or 4 tomato plants. And maybe a pepper.

Here is what I planted instead:

Cucumbers:
Slicemaster
Lemon
Burpless

Squash:
Ronde de Italia zucchini
Green zucchini
Eight ball zucchini
yellow crookneck squash

Tomatoes:
Celebrity
Jubilee
Better Boy
Beefmaster
Green Zebra
Yellow Pear
Sweet 100s
Brandywine
Cherokee Purple
Black Krim
Kellogg’s Breakfast
Mr. Stripey
Hillbilly
Mortgage Lifter

Peppers:
2 California Wonder
1 Big Bertha
1 Jalapeno
1 Sweet banana pepper

Eggplant:
1 Japanese eggplant

27 plants. 14 kinds of tomatoes. FOURTEEN. And eggplant? I don’t even LIKE eggplant.

What was I thinking??

If all this stuff actually grows, I’m going to be begging all my neighbors to take some off my hands. Yes, even the sex neighbors. (Actually, I haven’t heard any sex from over there for a while. And I haven’t seen their cats in my yard either. I wonder what’s up. Am I using these ridiculous headphones to watch tv for nothing??)

I may have to open a produce stand on the corner.