On the blog itself and the nature of creativity

Blogging is hard for me, just as anything that requires planning and consistency is hard for me. I feel like missing whole months like I have means that I ought to start over with a more cohesive plan.

My tomato plants last year didn't result in any fruits. They took several months to flower, and then on most of the bushes, the flowers never turned into tomatoes, not even little green ones. Two of the plants got stepped on by an extremely careless 8-year-old brother-in-law, and were irreplaceably ruined. By the time the first little green tomato showed up on one of the surviving bushes, it was August, the majority of the plant was woody and stretched across my sidewalk, and, one bad day, I was so sick of watering it for such a disappointing result that I ripped it out and threw it away.  I was fairly regretful of that a few days later, since at least a few tomatoes might still have grown.  But I did not replant this year. My space is absolutely wrong for tomatoes. It's too small, it's got dust instead of dirt, and though every inch of my in-laws' landscaping has water drips, none of mine does and it's very hard for me to keep track of watering a plant that is ignored by everyone but me and dying anyway.  Plus, I have to cart out water from my kitchen, since all of the water outlets on the side of the house are taken by my in-laws' water systems.  So as my plants died, I felt even more isolated and lonely.  The mint took over the space altogether.