It's been a Green Pepper Year. As soon as they turn red they succumb to what I will call The Tomato Pox. And it's been an Eggplant Year. And it's been a Tropical Plant year, because a volunteering Wax Gourd, emerged from one of those spots where weeding is lax, shot twenty feet southward so he could mount the arch where three years ago, despite coddling and cooing and the occasional foot stamp, his ancestors completely failed to respond. And it's been a year to test a well.
There is also an understanding in me that some plants are male and some plants are female. An Eggplant is an uncle. All Beans are aunts. A Wax Gourd I think of as a chubby little boy with a fondness for bakeries. Potatoes are girls in my mind. But when it comes to Tomato I have to pause to think, which is always an error and absolutely certain to put a kink in the hosepipe, with whom I have what I'll call a very late season relationship that often includes irritable behavior on both our parts.