Eight days after I planted the seeds in a plastic flat on my windowsill, I noticed my tomato and basil plants had popped their little green heads out of the soil. This was the first time I had ever sown a seed and seen it sprout. I clapped my hands and shouted out something about how I hadn’t failed my first test as a gardener. My friend Jeff, watching TV in the next room, yelled back that I’d have plenty of time to fail as a gardener once the plants are moved outside.
Well, Jeff can take his pessimism and compost it. I’m excited about this whole planting thing. And in my rush of enthusiasm, I’ve decided to name my plants. Do people ever do this? We name our cars, our guitars, our iPods. And those things don’t even turn into food. So, anyway, my taller, kind-of-sideways-growing basil sprout shall henceforth be known as Fawlty. The (for now) shorter basil plant is Napoleon. The three tomato plants that have popped through the surface: Brandon, LaMarcus and Rudy (because those are my three favorite Portland Trailblazers and because calling a vegetable LaMarcus is hilarious). Then I have one more tomato plant that has yet to sprout. I’m calling that one Hope.
Dan Leif, intern