HERITAGE TOMATO

Mike and Anne came to dinner. They brought with them a tomato plant grown from a heritage seed. As soon as I held it I forgot that I’d said we were absolutely not planting any more tomato plants this year. And even though I have always declared it inefficient to start tomato plants from seed, I could feel myself sliding into the future, slicing gently into ripe juicy tomatoes to extract the finest seeds for next year’s planting. This, I suppose, is the magical influence of a heritage seed.
In some respects our entire yard is a heritage site, a treasure chest of memories and gifts. Right now the Athabasca Lily is in full flower. This is a child of the plant John and Grace gave me for my fortieth birthday. They knew how much I admired the plant that grew in profusion in front of Athabasca Hall. And so, on a Saturday night, when nobody was around, they took a shovel and removed one of a hundred plants overcrowding themselves. When my new Athabasca Lily doubled in size I split it with them. Then, when they moved I split mine again. Finally, we moved and brought some with us. Other people see these plants and call them Solomon’s seal. But we have officially declared that all offspring of the one procured on John and Grace’s Saturday night raid should be known as Athabasca Lily.
Then there’s the periwinkle we got from Linda Borty. David noticed it when he delivered me to my piano lesson one bright spring Saturday morning. “Take some of it,” Linda cried. “There’s more than enough to spare!” We miss Linda now, and that prodigious periwinkle brings us such happy memories of her.
A careful observer of our street might notice that some of the plants in our rock garden are closely related to the plants in Susan’s yard. “Take some of my plants,” Susan said, when we stopped to admire her blossoms. The rock garden was much emptier in those days.
The anemones came from Marnie and Don, the peonies from John and Marie, Marilyn and Peter. There are irises from Gianna. Primroses, lilacs and little yellow lilies came from Grace. The goat’s beard came from Mark and it was Mark who bought the first patio rose for the veranda. The blue pots came from Ruth. Anne and Mike gave the herb pot as a thank-you gift. Dad made the pansy wagons. Ginger taught me about Acidanthra and told me where to get them. The birds and the wind brought the sunflowers from their home across the back alley.
Gladioli and begonias remind us of David’s dad. Sweet peas and dahlias remind us of my mom.
And now we have a heritage tomato plant—and the first line of a new story.