Last year, this man (our neighbor, Sam Naghazei) was observed from our studio popping Sungold tomatoes from the vines growing on our driveway. While we don’t encourage people to walk on to the property after our fruits and vegetables, the front driveway has always been considered a sort of community garden, and we often see neighbors experiencing this local food at a five-finger discount. (Maybe tastes better that way?)
The Sungold tomatoes are allowed to reseed, and every year we get a bumper crop. (Doesn’t “bumper crop” seem appropriate for a plant growing on the driveway?) And now that we think about it: “Allowed to reseed” is a funny statement, really, as these tomatoes would reseed whether we permitted them to or not. But the language conjures the notion that we actually are GARDENING rather than tolerating utter chaos, so we will proceed with our tale.
Yesterday, while all and sundry were concentrating on a conference call (earbuds firmly wedged in each ear, thus blocking all but the most insistent exterior noise), there came a — well, how to describe it? — INSISTENT noise — of someone wanting to get our attention, and clearly coming to the studio down the driveway. Briefly we thought of looming catastrophe, stoutly ignored the din, and continued on our call, unphazed. The hallooing subsided.
Two hours later, Sam again appeared in our doorway with a clay pot filled with plump, nearly translucent, Sungold tomatoes — a return on our investment, with interest. Last year he had taken a few as seed stock, and this year he had grown his own and wanted to share his successful bounty. Now, that’s building a community!
