What are you doing?
She used that voice.
That teacher voice she used to use when she wanted to startle young men into apologetic submission.
Oh boy do I ever know that voice.
I dropped whatever has been in my hands and looked flustered at the sound of that voice my entire life.
Even when I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I’d have the same reaction. You know that reaction, that caught masturbating reaction. 1 I stopped moving. I dropped my hands to my sides then waited.
Her: Don’t pull up anything green. They could be carrots. They could be peas, beans, tomatoes or tomatillos.
Me: You don’t know what you’ve planted here?
Her: I’m lazy gardening. Some things are just going to grow back.
Me: And you want us to let them?
Her: Yes. They could be a pepper.
Me: They could be golden rod.
Her: Fuck you.
I was right.
Most of it was goldenrod.
I dug it up as soon as I was told.
But within my wife’s random garden, surprises and successes are as common as salt. We had three tomatillo plants that grew up from some of the mess and crap we just let lay there without doing a thing.
And those tomatillos were hardy. They were beefy. From the hard scrabble soil of a winter wasteland, these tomatillo grew anew fighting for survival against rat and crow and Wiggins and Trevor and Rodney.
Contrast this with the basement grown little pampered plants that we raised lovingly from seeds.
Three of the five tomatillos that we sprouted in the basement didn’t last a month outside. The two survivors produced really disappointing tomatillos. They had big promising sacks but inside, they were shrivled up and tiny little things. Like they had just taken a long dip in a cold lake.
They were soft, pampered, basement raised, well lit, bright, little plants. They started in plastic and were given every advantage. They had the best growing medium, good light, regular irrigation and the breeze of a fan that would cause them just enough distress in order to strengthen their ability to stand tall.
The wild tomatillos were powerful, proud and independent. Every inch these plants had was earned. They were highly productive and ready for more.
They were the hardest working tomatillo plants I’ve ever had the honour to have shared a garden with. And they were a result of lazy farming.
That’s why lazy farming is the best farming.
(she is so biased but i get it)
I’m a bit more of an interventionist.
I wanted the goldenrod gone. That didn’t happen. I don’t get to subtract.
Instead, I’ve started adding.
I’ve pee’d all over her garden.
No, not like that.
I found a couple of bags of pea seeds. I spread those seeds all over her garden.
Late this May, we’ll be in the garden. She’ll bend down near where I peed and start looking at the plants and trying to determine if they’re a weed or something we want. Oh yes. I have it all figured out. The scene will be brilliant:
What are you doing?
And I’ll use that voice.
Then giggle as she freezes.
if you found that last bit distasteful, here’s more! Check out the best ever caught masturbating scene in any movie ever. That’s right, I’m talking about Jason Bigg’s super glue bit from American Pie 2. This is one of the best bits of physical comedy ever
The gag itself has roots early in the Renaissance. The lazzo ‘of being stuck’ was a recurring gag where Arlecchino would through sap or magic, or potion, glue, ropes or chains would become ‘stuck’ to someone, something or himself in ways that were profoundly taboo.
The payoff takes place when Arlecchino realizes that he is caught in the spotlight with his pants down.
The fear is real.
Supposedly those hard-fought tomatillo plants, struggling and winning against the elements and pests will also make tomatillos that contain more polyphenols than their basement-sheltered (or even organically farmed) brethren, making them healthier for us to eat. Fascinating stuff!!