What is it with tomatoes?

Posted by Ms. Babble

August 4, 2007

I have been holding off on eating a tomato that has been sitting in my fridge since Einat left. I didn’t consciously keep myself from ingesting its vitamin goodness. Instead, I think I avoided it as being the one last thing remaining from her visit.

To eat it would be sacrilege.

But I rationalized that in a few days it would be rotten. It’s bio-matter would begin to stink and turn the fridge into a mess of neglect. So I ate it. But not before holding it in my hand and meditating on it being the last piece of a whirlwind month. I thought about the finger prints that must surely still be on its skin. The hand that decided to pick this vegetable over all the others. The way it waited in the fridge while its owner was off discovering a new piece of America.

Inanimate objects always find a peculiar place in my head.

The next day my roommate also produced the first ripe tomato of the year from her garden. I couldn’t help but compare it to the tomato plant her and I encountered in Iraq last year. Only this year there were no Iraqis to destroy it. What is this strange energy I have with tomatoes?

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