Horn of plenty...

Last week I met up with one of my old Nebraska friends for ice cream at one of the coolest places I've ever been. That day, my daring flavor was Sweet Corn Blackberry. (They make their own ice cream.) While we chatted, she updated me on things to do in Boston. In the midst of learning about the awesome Indian place above the Staples in Harvard Square, I wrote Harvest Square. She politely corrected me, and we went on. (Consequently...AWESOME TRIP planned for Boston.)
Today Roommate texted me to let me know that I'm missing the Harvest. Not going to lie, I've been thinking about that since before I crossed the state line. My one consoling thought was, "Hey! Mom and Dad have tomatoes in the back yard-I'll be fine." Right. I got home, checked the planter box for tomatoes, and found...dirt. Upon questioning, Mom said they sprayed out the planter with Round Up. WHAT!?! Why would they do such a thing to TOMATOES!?! Apparently every plant they have ever planted in that box has come back the next year. Four years later, they had quite the mix: tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, berries, rabbits, etc. Yeah. Rabbits were the surprise crop from two years ago. Anyhow, the planter box.
Wait. Back track. Let me apologize for the rotten transition. (It's never been my forte.) In Utah we had a family joke. We always had a garden and we loved the harvest, but it seemed that the one thing we produced most efficiently was rocks. Every springs we hauled piles of rocks out of the garden and every fall there was a new batch. I didn't get it. Still don't get it. Makes no sense in my mind. This is why I was completely fascinated when I came home from my mission to find my parents with a garden not even 1/16 of the size that we had growing up. They had tomatoes and a cucumber growing in the box and to be honest, it was awesome. I don't think they had ever dealt with soil so fertile. The thing that made us giggle was the cucumber. They next door neighbor is very Catholic. She has her traditional Mary shrine in the back corner of her yard, right through the fence from our planter box. Over the course of the summer, the cucumber grew through the fence. One night while we were mowing the lawn we noticed that the cucumber was growing around Mary's neck. Amusingly enough, it wasn't even just the vine. It was an actual cucumber. Eek! We're not disrespectful! Honest! We just have highly fertile soil!
Flash forward 4 years. My parents were tired of worrying about what was and wasn't growing and how exactly to keep the rabbits out of he said garden so they Round Up-ed (is that even a word?) everything. The morning before yesterday, the neighbor caught Mom in the driveway and handed her a bag of tomatoes. She explained that she didn't really care for tomatoes, but they had a volunteer plant in their back yard, It just kind of appeared. Mom thanked her for the tomatoes and came in to share the story. We looked out back and noticed that this year Mary is nestled in nicely to a thriving tomato plant. We may get the tomato harvest yet...if not, Roommate, you'll have to save me something, yeah?