Cover the tomatoes!

Some places have tornado warnings. When they go off, you get in the basement. Where I grew up, we had frost warnings. When they go off, you run outside and cover your tomatoes.

The minute my dad heard "frost warning" in the 10 'o clock news he'd drop everything and get into the backyard. From there he'd stumbling through the dark as he made his way to the tarps in the corner of the yard, which were usually employed as the walls of my and my brother's fort.

Last year was the first year I manned my own garden. It came in a small kit with three little pots and three types of seeds. "Simple to grow and harvest!" and "Enjoy herbs in your own home!" were statements found on the box. I suspected they were hoaxing me into growing pot. Never had a chance to find out.

The seedlings sprouted up rather quickly, filling me with dreams of a lush botanical garden in my very own home. The next day they shriveled up like morals in the US Senate.

Despite my failure, I still wanted to try again. Besides, with all the food recalls lately, I feel a lot safer getting my vegetables from my very own garden. Other than the random times the neighbor's cat mistakes our planting pot for it's litter box, my vegetables get nothing but dirt and water.

The stores will tell you otherwise, hoping you'll keep buying their vegetables. "Rinse your produce with water when you get home," they say, "and they'll be perfectly safe to eat."

My wife tells me I need to use antibacterial soap and complete the ABC's song while I wash my hands, at least if I want them clean enough to eat with. If that's correct, I have a hard time believing that running tap water over a bundle of spinach will rid it of salmonella.

So this year I decided to give gardening another chance. I started by going to the store for gardening supplies. Looking at the tomato plants in the Walmart nursery was like looking at puppies in the pound: they all looked terrible, but I felt it was my moral duty to take one home.

I bought three. They looked scrawny and weak, but inside I knew they had heart. Like Mickey did for Rocky, I figured I'd give them the chance they needed to prove themselves. One month later, after regular watering, Miracle-Gro applications, and unconditional love, they still look like the plants I bought at Walmart.

Maybe the frost got 'em.