Well well well, look who decided to show up. One of the failures I already eulogized. He waited until he was accidentally planted with rosemary so he could cause problems and threaten her growth. Such a tool. Here’s what I think must have happened: when I said goodbye to the lifeless dirt the other day, I emptied it into my community soil planter (a planter that just holds extra soil until it’s needed). I believed that all the seeds were duds/that I accidentally killed them with heat stroke. But one resilient seed turned out to be a very late bloomer- or a deviant with murderous intent just waiting for prey. Either way, this strategic opportunist shimmied his way into the soil I was adding to the pot for rosemary then planned his big reveal. When I first saw him, I was kind of excited about this tomato surprise. But after a bit of research, I wish he’d never sprouted.
See, it turns out that rosemary and tomatoes are poor companion plants. Tomatoes require frequent watering and nutrient-rich soil, while rosemary “thrives in poor soil quality and drought.” Rosemary is basically the anxious attachment style plant of the garden world: unable to tolerate a healthy foundation and requiring less than to feel comfortable. No wonder she had a baby with the devil in that one movie.
I have come to the sobering realization that both plants cannot survive in their current lodging and now must decide what to do. I could try to carefully pluck the tomato and replant it. However, the tomato sprout still looks too underdeveloped to withstand a transplant, and trying to move plants before they’re ready has worked very poorly before. But if I leave the tomato where it is, I fear its roots will tangle with rosemary’s and only one of them will survive. Is it better to let the plants work it out for themselves? Or if one of them must die, should it be I who carries the burden of the lost life? Would a mother kill so her child doesn’t have to? I wish someone had warned me about the emotional toll of gardening.