September 16, 2006

Tomatoes don’t grow on trees

I’m going to be creating another blog as part of my grad project. It will be at I think. Don’t go there yet because it’s the hideous default stylesheet with no content! Anyway, I’m planning on calling it “Tomatoes don’t grow on trees”, and it will feature articles and my own commentary on my food and nutrition-related experiences.

Basically my grad project topic is exploring the role of industry & politics in determining nutrition & health. Ever wonder why eating a tomato feels like eating a pencil crayon, knowing the pencil crayon would have more flavour?

Speaking of trees and fruits, my 11.5-year-old Macintosh/Spartan apple tree finally bore fruit that I picked and sampled this afternoon. I don’t think they were quite ripe, or at least the small one that I happily ate, but it was DELICIOUS, tart but sweet, and crunchy! I’ve never liked those apples so I’m glad I enjoyed it. I touched and thanked the tree, and graciously said goodbye to its browning, leaning grandeur as it may not survive the winter. My mother gave it a good shook at some point (trying to push it over, I was informed today!), which she says shocked it into bearing fruit. (You can also give a wisteria a death threat that will make it bloom.) It gave 5 or 6 and I ended up with 3 in the end. Mom says that it’s a sign it’s going to die. 🙁 But, I planted it from seed, and it was a good tree. It gave me its final (parting) gifts. Thank you, old friend.

I don’t think I can bear the picture and thought of my dad taking a chainsaw to it and slicing its trunk and limbs. I think that… I should like a piece of it made into something, even if it’s just a 1″-thick ring that I can put on the wall or something. I think, though, that that would make me very sad… knowing it was part of a living tree once, MY tree. If we can use its branches and trunk as much as we can and make something from it, grant it some honour, I’ll be grateful.