In my view, it's the much wetter than average last part of July that's resulted in an outbreak of 'Exploding Tomato Syndrome.' One minute a Gardner has a Tomato, pepper, mayonnaise and white bread sandwich in mind, the next he is on the verge of euthanizing all fourteen of his Tomato plants. They are out there now, struggling with Black Foot, Mole Burrow, Blister Beetle, Possible Possum Attack, Humming Bird Beak, Morning Glory Strangle, Stinkbug and a humidity that leaves dew on the leaves until noon. And it's this last pox that provides good living conditions for whatever it is that takes meaning from permitting a Tomato to almost ripen before causing it to explode, leaving dredge and juice along with the smell of death.
A Vegetable Garden is either a collection of competing species, or it's a social gathering that has to get along with itself. And it's always humbling to realize that interdependence is more of a spiritual quest than it is a scientific fact. I hear the word ecology applied to economics by those pompous asses, who go on and on in their constant search for holiness, and I think, "How Nice." The reality of course is that a wetter May or June and our fourteen Tomato plants would have been gone by now. Nor can I say that a fungicide has saved my soul or ever will, but, if I am to believe in Kapital, then that Tomato Sandwich, with just a hint of Marmite, certainly might have done. It's no wonder "Blessed Release" is on the list of preferred phrases and "It's A Job" is down there in the underworld.