Before I even left for Burning Man, I was concerned about one of the tomato plants. There was a single branch hanging down, bearing one very green, very heavy tomato. This struck me as a Very Bad Thing – the weight was certain to snap the branch at some point.
But getting ready to attend Burning Man requires a lot of attention to detail, which meant I paid essentially zero attention to the tomatoes, and then headed out to Black Rock City without dealing with the heavy branch.
When I returned, though, the branch was fine. A little stressed, but fine. So I continued with the laissez faire approach, until a few days after I’d gotten home.
String, I thought. I need to find some string to tie it to the stake.
I began tearing through our apartment like I was being chased, searching drawers and closets for anything resembling string. I checked my wrapping paper stash for ribbon. I considered dental floss.
And then I pulled open the drawer where I keep every extra button that has ever come with any item of clothing that I have ever bought. They’re all nicely organized in a zippered plastic bag, but do I actually ever sew buttons onto clothes? No, no I don’t. Instead, I collect them in a hidden museum of Outfits I Have Known.
But in the bag was a smaller bag with a coiled chenille thread, apparently once the backup thread for a sweater that has long gone to Goodwill. String!
And this is how my tomato plant got outfitted in chenille. Don’t ever tell me my plants can’t make a fashion statement.