We’re taking a break from our standard musicology fare, in order to bring you breaking developments from the world of enclosed balcony gardening. The Early Girl Tomato Plant takes the spotlight today. Having placed one such specimen on the third-floor balcony at the abode of my parents in late June, I quickly realized that I couldn’t depend upon honeybees for the pollination of the little yellow flowers. A raid to capture a honeybee was considered, in that we’d grab one outside, release it into the balcony area for a period of a few weeks, befriend it, and provide it with all the creature comforts it might desire, including cantaloupes, deep tissue massage, and career counseling.
In the end, it became necessary to pollinate the Early Girl Tomato Plant by hand. A strict training regimen was adopted with the goal of strengthening the acute vibrational muscles & associated giblets. Boxes were rifled-through until a suite of fine art paintbrushes was prized. Then followed a period of speculative vibration, which included (initially, my friends) great periods of isolation and despair. However, there did appear, one fortuitous day, a little green tomato, lo, a cluster of fledgling Early Girls. Mind you, it’s basically mid-August, so the Early Girls are kinda late, eh? I immediately engaged in Early Girl research. I pored over best practices as established in peer-reviewed literature. I wanted to raise me some p-h-a-t tomatoes.
In the end, the Early Girl responds to the basics: sunlight,
grow lamps, water, and the singing of “Liza Jane” songs. And, of course, channeling
my inner honeybee. I cannot say with any certainty that this strategy of intense
vibration would benefit other flowers, and other situations, but I can say
this: the Early Girl Tomato Plant is mighty happy to see me.
“Goodbye Liza Jane” (traditional)
“Little Liza Jane” (Sam Chatmon)