Your Favorite Childhood Memory

Mister Bent · 03-01-2010, 08:58 PM

One year, my parents decided to go organic (loved the 70s!) and started their own enormous garden in the backyard. Of course, this was supposed to be a family project, so we were all recruited. I was probably 6 or 7, my brother and sister were 15 & 16 respectively.

The tomatoes became my brother's special project, to my mother's delight. He applied their compost, staked them and became incredibly vigilant over them. My mother wrote a feature for the newspaper and did a series of articles on our garden adventure, one included a cartoon of my brother holding a shotgun, protecting his Jersey tomatoes.

I'm not sure exactly how it all came to pass, but it turned out that it wasn't the tomatoes my brother was protecting - it was the marijuana plants that he had carefully staked to the tomatoes.

Ah, the 70s.

03-01-2010, 08:58 PM	#11
Mister Bent Senior Member How Do You Identify?: . Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: . Posts: 2,905 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 4,151 Thanked 5,824 Times in 1,722 Posts Rep Power: 21474855	One year, my parents decided to go organic (loved the 70s!) and started their own enormous garden in the backyard. Of course, this was supposed to be a family project, so we were all recruited. I was probably 6 or 7, my brother and sister were 15 & 16 respectively. The tomatoes became my brother's special project, to my mother's delight. He applied their compost, staked them and became incredibly vigilant over them. My mother wrote a feature for the newspaper and did a series of articles on our garden adventure, one included a cartoon of my brother holding a shotgun, protecting his Jersey tomatoes. I'm not sure exactly how it all came to pass, but it turned out that it wasn't the tomatoes my brother was protecting - it was the marijuana plants that he had carefully staked to the tomatoes. Ah, the 70s. __________________ Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats. - H. L. Mencken