The war of the tomatoes

My mother describes her gardening style as “benign neglect.” The plants grow where they will, and occasionally the Great Mistress of the Garden potters outdoors to water and weed. Sometimes the Heir to the Mistress of the Garden sallies forth to water, but we’ve been having a rainy summer and both Heir and Mistress have forgotten that nature doesn’t always take care of their chores for them.

This morning the Heir to the Mistress of the Garden (who, in the Common Tongue is referred to as “me”) emerged from the Castle to gaze upon the grounds. I discovered that the garden kingdom is poised on the cusp of war.

The major Garden Power at the moment is the tomato kingdom, which has thrust great crunchy arms through the circumference of its cage and encroached upon the walking path, smothered the marigolds, and is now looming over the pea plants with ominous attitude that speaks of impending doom:


On the eastern side of the kingdom, another altercation is brewing. The kingdoms sweet potato and cucumber, I fear will soon clash in an epic battle of wills for possession of the herb garden and the barren carrot plot to the west.

The victor of this battle will undoubtedly march forth to confront the great tomato kingdom in the west.

It grieves me to see my once great and companionable city in such discord, but I see large green tomatoes on the vine and the first signs of cucumbers. When the battle is over, I will lose no time in descending from on high and collecting my spoils!



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