Most Eggplant are stoic, which make them good listeners. A Gardener can go on at them for hours, and they'll nod politely. But there's one Eggplant in the Vegetable Garden who is a little less than stoic, and it could well be my fault. He's in a bed that not so long ago was a gravel path, and I suspect that because gravel paths are a nightmare to dig up this Eggplant's end of the bed might not have received the gravel path digging up attention he deserved and as a result this less than stoic Eggplant is inclined to whimper at me a little. Nor has my accepting full blame done very much to ease the situation. The little chap is sulking, and it's entirely possible I've been over watering him as a result.
Tomato tend to be Theatre Critics, which is about as far from stoic as a person
can get. They love drama, and I am of the opinion that often a Tomato will take
pride in criticizing her attendant. There's an Old German with some particularly
tart comments. She's at the end of her row, near the New Orleans Rose,
which is a Climbing Rose on the garden fence and it's in that Climbing Rose
where the Goldfinch like to gossip amongst the hips as they plot their own
dastardly morning. And I have told this particular Old German that I do have a
life and under no circumstances am I getting up any earlier to chase them away.
The point is this Old German is kind of close to the Sulking Eggplant, so I
tread warily around her incase she puts two and two together.