I do not have a green thumb. (I’d say I had more of a brown thumb, but that doesn’t sound quite right.) Anyway, I just can’t grow anything in my garden. My wife has better success, but really works at it, too. The other morning, I went outside and observed my wife inserting a tiny paintbrush into an equally tiny flower on one of the garden plants. While eccentric behavior is the norm in our household, I had to ask why she was tickling our tomatoes while in her bathrobe. Continue reading “At this point, I’d welcome a bee sting”